


Dancing With Demons

by humble_beginnings



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Blow Jobs, Depression, F/M, Manic Episode, Mental Health Issues, Nipple Piercings, Oral Sex, Piercings, Tattoos, Tongue Piercings, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2018-12-10 02:56:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 76,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11682576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humble_beginnings/pseuds/humble_beginnings
Summary: Sebastian meets Buzz in a nightclub and finds that one steamy night just isn’t enough. But is he ready to deal with her demons?Warnings: Where do I begin? Mental illness (Bipolar), self harm, drug references, piercings, tattoos, mention of suicide in later chapters, realistic description of manic episodes and severe depression, reckless behaviour.Notes: The rough ride will be worth it ;) Proceed with caution if you have mental illness or self harm triggers, if you’re not sure please ask.





	1. Acquisition

My hot pink heels click rhythmically on the pavement along to the ever-present beat in my head. Sometimes it's drums, sometimes it's a bass, guitar, or piano riff, hell, sometimes it's the profoundly annoying ringtone I heard on the subway, but it's always there. Finally I arrive, my bare legs thankful to get out of the cool evening air, checking my leather coat and pulling up the stool at my regular table by the bar. I feel Levi in my personal space before I really see him, my eyes are too busy scanning the room for something or someone to calm the blood rushing in my ears, but he waits patiently for my gaze to settle on him before setting a tumbler of scotch down in front of me with a smile.

“How you doin', Buzz?” he asks, drinking from his own glass of soda.

“Good, Levi. You?”

“Busy busy, the way I like it. Can I get you anything else?” As the manager of this quaint establishment, known as  _ Shadows, _ he knows me well. Perhaps a little too well, but I am without a doubt their most loyal customer.

I give him my sweetest grin. “Do you have any of those pretzels left, the chocolate dipped ones?”

“I'll see what I can do for you,” he says, watching me take a sip of scotch. It takes me a moment to steady the tremor in my hand and although I'd hoped to hide it, he stiffens and frowns.

“Been waiting all day for this.” It burns pleasantly down my throat as I set the glass down and turn my attention back to the crowd while he slips through the gate behind the bar.

Bodies mill around each other like worker bees around a hive, and even those waiting in line for the bar never stop undulating along with the steady beat of the music. My eyes barely linger on anyone for more than a millisecond, scanning the mass of people like a page of information, in search of a specific keyword. Most of them I can dismiss fairly quickly because they're women – which in itself isn't a problem, except that it's not a woman I'm interested in right now; a small handful I recognise; and the rest just don't have the indefinable 'something' I'm looking for. I fidget with my glass, running a finger around the rim and sucking off the trace of liquor, but not because I'm worried I'll be leaving empty handed. Not from this place, it's my regular for good reason – it's popular, but not so much as to be uncomfortably crowded, the music doesn't leave my head pounding for days afterward, and I've never failed to meet someone new.

Let's not pussyfoot around it – I'm here for one reason tonight and that's to pick up a man. I've never cared for labelling it or dodging other people's judgement, I accepted long ago that once in awhile I have a need for physical contact with another warm body, and there's no shame in taking care of that need.

The moment he steps through the door, my skin prickles with excitement and the jittering monologue in my mind hushes for a good two minutes. His hair is thick and dark, cropped on the sides and a little longer on top – enough to weave my fingers through at an appropriate moment later on – with matching stubble covering his jaw and chin. He rubs his hand over his face while he surveys the room, draping his coat over his arm and rolling the sleeves of his deep red button-down shirt as he swerves in and out of groups of patrons alongside his male companion. No rings and the way he subtly appraises the women he passes tell me he's likely unattached. The confidence of his broad shoulders and chest and the cockiness of his gait make me bite my lip. Target acquired. I can already see the rest falling into place as the night unfolds like the pages of a pop-up book.

Levi sets down a bowl of chocolate pretzels and pulls up another stool, the tightness in my chest easing as we fall into comfortable conversation.

“We haven't seen you in a while.”

“I've been busy with work,” I say, as though it's unusual for me to disappear for weeks or months at a time. “We've been flat out updating the software from the company I bought out a few months ago, improving it and making it ours.”

“Wasn't Microsoft, was it?” he jokes.

_ Reckon I could give Bill Gates a run for his money.  _ “No, Microsoft is safe for now. I read an article yesterday that called us a 'boutique' solutions architecture firm. Boo-teek,” I say slowly to emphasise the point.

“Very Minnie Mouse.”

“That's what I thought!” I laugh. “Like some cutesy pop-up shop!”

“Next time you're around, our printer is being temperamental again.”

I roll my eyes. This is why you don't ever tell anyone you know anything about any sort of technology.

“I know, I know. It's beneath you and not your thing and I'm about to get another lecture on hardware versus software. I'll pay you.” He gets out of the lecture because he obviously did listen the first time, he just chose to ignore it.

“You can't afford me.” I chuckle and finish off my drink. “I'll look at it next time I'm in, remind me before I get a drink.”

Most likely he'll do the same as last time and have Brennan the bartender withhold all alcohol from me until I fix his problem.

Behind Levi, the man in the blood-red shirt comes into view making his way to the bar, waiting in line and talking animatedly with his large hands.

“Refill?” Levi asks, holding up my glass.

“Please.” I nod. “And would you have Brennan add that man's drinks to my tab?”

“Anything for my favourite nerd.”

As Levi moves behind the bar, red shirt turns and locks eyes with me for a few seconds. Even at this distance, I can see the mischief in his bright eyes and the way they crease with his easy smile before he looks away. Fingering the fresh glass Levi has set down in front of me, I continue watching him lean on the bar to order, confusion knitting his brows when Brennan gestures to me and waves away his cash. With an identical glass in his hand, he steps away from the service area and raises it to me in a silent toast before taking a sip.

“That's my cue to get back to work,” Levi says, squeezing my shoulder. “If you need anything, you know where I am.”

He stalks toward me like I'm the prey he just trapped with a morsel of promise and a pretty smile, not realising I've lay in wait since he first crossed the threshold. I lick my lips at his first sip, feeling the tingle and burn as though it were my own.

“Sebastian,” he says, extending a smooth hand. His deep voice has a hint of a rough edge that makes me wonder if his personality has the same serrated side.

“Buzz,” I reply, completely immune to his slightly confused look but not the way his long fingers linger on my skin.

“Aldrin or Lightyear?”

“Neither.” I laugh and his face relaxes into a warm smile.

“Thank you for the drink, you come here often?”

“You're welcome. This is a regular hangout for me, haven't seen you here before, though.”

“It's not usually my thing, we're just celebrating the end of a project.”

I watch him over the rim of my glass, his blue eyes admiring the peek of tattoo on my shoulder as we make small talk. Every time his tongue darts out to wet his plump lips, my mind is invaded by thoughts of both on my skin, kissing and licking all the right places.

“Do you dance, Buzz?”

“Often.” I down my scotch and link my arm with his without waiting for an offer.

The beat of the music and crush of the crowd on the small dance floor make the atmosphere thick to almost stifling, and leaves us no choice but to dance with our bodies pressed together. When I'm knocked forward from behind, Sebastian immediately steadies me with both hands on my hips and I hold them there, revelling in having his hands on me.

“Wow,” he says when I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Shiny.”

I'm so used to the number of piercings I have that I forget they're there, so when I see him admiring my ear I have to feel around a few moments before I realise he's not looking at something that doesn't belong there. He doesn't strike me as the type who's particularly turned on by tats or piercings, but they're part of me.

“You like those, there's plenty more.”

“Really?” He raises one eyebrow.

I flick my tongue out, making to lick my lips but letting it sit just long enough for him to see the rose-gold ball in the centre, and watching his eyes widen but remain focused on my mouth. His hands slide around my waist to my back and pull me hard against him.

“What's it like to kiss with one of those?”

In response I lean up and press my lips gently to his cheek, whispering low in his ear. “You tell me.”

He catches my mouth in a soft kiss, quickly deepening it when I lick at the seam of his lips. As our tongues dance and lap at each other, I feel his breath catch as my body presses against him, my breasts growing heavy and my nipples hardening against his chest. He finishes the kiss with a sigh and takes one of my hands above my head to spin me around until I laugh, and he holds my back against his front. As I move against him I can feel the bulge in his jeans, and while I'm sure it's making him uncomfortable, it only encourages me to grind against him.

Sebastian bends so that his hot breath dances on my neck.

“You want to get out of here?”

I nod and lead him back to the table to retrieve my purse and coat, nodding to Brennan behind the bar on our way out the door.

“Where to?” I ask when we're out in the frigid night air.

“My place is only a couple blocks... if that's what you want.”

I let the polite gentleman in him squirm for a few seconds before answering. “Lead the way.”


	2. Blindspot

##  Sebastian

It wasn’t her dusty pink hair or the inked art of her shoulder that caught my attention first, nor was it the loud pink heels that I guessed would bring us eye to eye when she stood. It was the way she laughed. She laughed like the whole room was listening, and she shared with the world her pure unrestrained joy as though it was her drug. I wanted to hear that laugh in private, make it whisper just for me, draw it out of her and see just how high she could fly.

The man she converses so intimately with wears a black shirt with  _ Shadows  _ emblazoned across the front and a wedding band on his finger. That smile never leaves her face as they talk, her joyous laugh never far from bubbling over.

“Sebastian! Hello?” Mike says, backhanding my chest.

“Sorry, what?”

“What are you drinking?”

I look up at the bartender, whose raised eyebrows are clearly awaiting a response to a question I didn’t hear.

“Oh, sorry. Um... scotch, please. Neat.”

“Good choice,” he says with a subtle smirk. He sets the glass down on the bar but waves away the proffered bill with a nod toward the pink-haired woman. “Apparently your drinks are already paid for.”

Mike has overheard and is pushing me toward her table before I can think. I recover myself and raise my glass with a smile in her direction, finding it quickly returned.

Her slender legs are crossed beneath the table, waves like candy floss framing her delicate face and big hazel eyes.

“Sebastian.” I extend my hand and she takes it firmly enough that I wonder if she does a lot of business with men who like a solid handshake. Her hands are delicate with short plain nails, just one ring on her right middle finger, and a tattoo I can’t make out on the inside of her wrist.

“Buzz,” she says in a smooth alto. Surely that’s not her whole name?

“Aldrin or Lightyear?” I quip automatically.

“Neither.” She laughs again, just for me.

As I thank her for the drink, I notice her eyes watching my mouth rather intently and suddenly it feels quite dry. When I lick my lips, her cheeks turn a warm rosy pink and the more time and conversation pass, the less I’m trying to talk myself out of taking her home. My publicist Karen and I had a talk just a few days ago about one night stands – actually it was more a one-sided ‘you will not do this’ kind of lecture – but I just don’t get that ‘kiss and tell’ sort of vibe from Buzz. Even if she does, the wrath of an angry publicist might even be worth it.

_ 90% of New Yorkers wouldn’t know you from Adam, dumbass,  _ I remind myself.

“Do you dance, Buzz?” I ask.

“Often.” She downs her scotch and leads me to the floor immediately, our bodies forced together by the crush of the crowd. After a few minutes she’s bumped forward into me and before I can steady her I feel her breasts against my chest and her hot breath on my neck, and when I make to move my hands, she holds them there while she moves to the music, the leather of her skirt soft beneath my palms. When she tucks her hair behind her ear I’m temporarily blinded by the jewellery that adorns every possible place that could be pierced, some of the coloured stones catching the lights when she tilts her head to the side.

“Wow. Shiny.”

She turns her head to the side. “You like those, there’s plenty more.”

“Really?” I raise an eyebrow, wondering where the others might be, and as I look down her body my eyebrow isn’t the only thing rising.

She flicks her tongue out to lick her lips and I catch a flash of gold in the centre of her tongue. It’s enough that I completely lose my train of thought and just stare at it for a few seconds.

“What’s it like to kiss with one of those?” I ask, pulling her close with a hand on the small of her back.

She kisses my cheek gently and whispers in my ear. “You tell me.”

Before I can talk myself out of it I press my lips against hers, inhaling her scent and tasting the scotch on her breath. She licks at the seam and our tongues glide against each other, my breath hitching at the feel of her pressed hard against me and the foreign warm metal in her tongue. As I pull back with a sigh my mind automatically goes where I don’t want it to – how would that feel in other places, I wonder?

In an attempt to hide my obvious erection I spin her around, eliciting another melodious laugh, and hold her back against me with an arm around her waist. The movement of her ass against my groin only makes it worse, though, and the harder I fight it the more her perfume fills my nose and her hips grind against me.

“You want to get out of here?” I whisper.

Buzz’s steps are sprightly, like a dancer, and if she’s not a few years younger than me she certainly appears so in spirit. Her shoulders don’t droop with the weight of adult responsibility, her words come freely and unguarded, her expressions unhindered by the old scars the rest of us carry. I have so many questions I don’t know where to start, but our bodies don’t seem to want us to talk. We’re about to turn the first corner when she drags me into a darkened shop front out of sight of the street, kissing me until I’m breathless and leaning against the glass with my fingers combing in her hair.

“Damn,” she says under her breath, touching her lips. “You’re a really good kisser.”

Fuck, I want to just hitch that skirt up and take her right here. Instead I pull her into another heated kiss, my fingertips grazing the back of her neck until she whimpers into my mouth. At least I know I’m affecting her just as much.

With our foreheads together and our breath in fast pants, I savour the moment before taking her hand. “We should go before we get caught.”

“Spoil sport,” she says with a giggle.

The sound that comes out of my throat is half growl and half groan as she tugs me back onto the street, practically running to keep up with my longer strides. From my understanding running in heels is quite the art form and carries significant risk so I have to admire her eagerness.

I pounce as soon as we’re inside the closed door, kissing her roughly and leaning her against the inside wall, running my hands down her contoured sides. My lips quickly move down to taste her jaw and neck, her scent making my head giddy as she threads her fingers through my hair.

“I don’t normally do this, I swear,” I mumble against her throat.

Her hand wraps around to the back of my neck, her short nails leaving a shuddering trail of goosebumps just below my hairline. “Everyone says that,” she says with a laugh that vibrates through my lips, tipping her head back against the wall. “I don’t care if you do or you don’t.”

I pull back and look straight into her eyes. “Ok doll, but I mean it. I don’t want you thinkin’ I just take home any woman who buys me a drink. You are absolutely fuckin’ beautiful and I couldn’t take my eyes off you. What’s your real name?”

She hesitates and slips a hand beneath the hem of my shirt.

“I’ve been Buzz for so long I can’t recall.”

I know she’s lying and I know she’s trying to distract me by scratching at my flank... and it’s working.

I let her peel off my shirt and take her hand, leading her to the bedroom before slipping her blouse over her head and watching her step out of her skirt and shoes. Her fingers leave a trail of warmth on my chest and abs and I swallow hard when she reaches the hair below my navel, looking down to see her biting her lip.

“Lie down,” I instruct, pulling back the covers and letting her get comfortable first. By the bedside light the diamond in her navel throws out rainbows of light and once I’ve pushed her bra strap aside I can see more of the tattoo on her shoulder. It’s an intricate spray of roses, flowing down over the side of her chest and perfectly framing her breast, finishing beneath it on her ribs. I could go either way on tattoos and piercings and I have no desire for any myself, but undressing her has so far been like unwrapping a work of art.

“I love this.” I trace the lines of a delicate rose with my pinky finger. “It’s gorgeous.”

“I have a very talented artist.”

Caging her in with my arms and legs, I separate her thighs with one knee while kissing her mouth again, tugging off the other bra strap and letting her unfasten it before I slip it off. She moans sharply when I take one in my hand, firm and smooth, the sound enough to make my cock graze my pants uncomfortably. And then I look down and see both nipples also have gold barbells in them, small and delicate like droplets emerging from either side.

“Whoa.” I groan and run a fingertip over one rounded end and she arches her back and moans. “Are they, like, super-sensitive?”

“Yes,” she says breathlessly as I manipulate it some more, rolling her hips against my thigh. “Fuck, yes.”

I continue toying with one and close my mouth gently around the other, swirling my tongue around it. Sensitive is an understatement, she’s writhing beneath me and tugging my hair, desperately trying to relieve me of my pants as though she can’t wait another second.

Releasing her nipple, I step back off the bed and out of my pants, my erection springing up as I rub a loose hand over it. Buzz leans up on her elbows, watching hungrily and licking her lips, consuming me with her eyes all the way up until she meets mine.

“Sorry, was I drooling?” She smacks her lips together and wipes her face with the back of her hand. Jesus Christ the things I want to do with that mouth.

I shake my head and chuckle, slipping her panties down and off and crawling up from the foot of the bed, stopping between her legs and parting them wide with my hands.

“Let’s see, shall we?”


	3. Composure

##  Buzz

I lean up on my elbows as Sebastian steps out of his pants, admiring his muscled torso and thighs. The 'V' that points to his groin is slowly revealed as he pulls down his shorts and then his thick pink cock springs free – long, erect, and proud. My eyes drag slowly up from his thighs to his shoulders, finally settling on his eyes and grin, clearly bemused at my obvious ogling.

“Sorry, was I drooling?”

“Let's see, shall we?”

Sebastian traces the strip of hair atop my mound with his thumb and teases a finger between my folds, watching intently as I writhe under his touch. I reach for his cock, longing to feel its veins and its smooth head, but he keeps it out of reach. Dipping his finger inside, he works some of the moisture up and around my clit until I whimper and roll my hips as he circles it and slips his finger inside. His eyes are again like that of a hunter toying with its prey, and he takes his time to build me up steadily until I'm fisting my hand in the sheets, and he pushes two fingers further inside, drawing them back and forth over the smooth hollow that draws moan after moan while his thumb rubs my throbbing bud. Without stopping, he leans over me and takes a nipple into his mouth once more, sending jolts straight to my core as he flicks at it with his tongue.

“Fuck... don't stop... oh, fuck!”

I force myself down onto his hand, shamelessly fucking his fingers and gripping his shoulder in anticipation of sweet release. At the quiver of my thighs, he slows his hand and lets me grind against him, drawing out the intense contractions around his fingers as my juices seep into his palm.

As I collapse back onto the pillows to recover Sebastian moves up to kiss me, but first I pull his fingers to my mouth and suck the salty cream from the tips until he groans and bites his lip.

“Fuck, doll. You are somethin’ else,” he says with a deep growl, his mouth hovering an inch above mine.

I reach behind his neck and pull him down to me, our mouths clashing roughly as I take his cock in my hand and stroke slowly from the base to its sticky tip. It’s as perfect as I imagined, silky smooth and throbbing in my palm, and he moans so sweetly in my mouth when I trace the sensitive spot beneath the head. Sebastian shifts to position himself between my legs while I continue stroking and swirling until he drops his head to my chest and pants heavily between my breasts.

“I want you, I need to feel that slick pussy on my cock.”

“Then have me,” I whisper, continuing back and forth with my hand while he fumbles in the night stand.

“Fucking shit,” he curses, closing the drawer.

“What’s wrong?”

He holds up an empty condom box. “I’m gonna have to run down to the store on the corner.”

I laugh and slide off the bed to retrieve my purse, tossing a handful of foil packets onto the bed. “Or we could just use one of these.”

He smiles. “And she comes prepared.”

“Always.”

I tear one open with my teeth, not bothering to look at the writing on the package, and straddle Sebastian's strong thighs. He flexes his quad muscle beneath me and it’s all I can do not to ride his thigh to another orgasm, it’s like they were made for it. As I roll the sheath over his cock I realise it has ribs and studs all over it and chuckle to myself – not what I’d usually pull out the first time but that’s what happens when you buy the ‘Surprise Me’ box!

“Fuck... please,” he says as I stroke his balls and he pushes up against me.

Lifting my hips I position him between my folds and lower myself onto his length, moaning as he slides beyond my tight lips. I lean down and kiss him deeply before I start to move, my breasts grazing over his torso with every stroke of my hips. Already I feel another orgasm coiling inside as his head passes my g-spot, and occasionally I switch the rhythm to grind down on him until my clit is throbbing desperately for more attention.

When I can no longer hold back, I push upright and brace one hand on Sebastian’s hard chest while the other snakes down my body so that my fingertips rest on my clit as I ride him with long slow thrusts. My head falls back and forth, need to come overtaking any remaining inhibition.

“Fuck,” Sebastian hisses through clenched teeth. “That’s so sexy. Look at me, I wanna see your eyes when you come on my dick.”

I smile and push down harder and faster, my nails digging in just above his nipple as a screaming moan is torn from my throat. I hold my breath as I hit the peak and then my walls collapse on his cock, gripping him hard as my body shakes with an intense orgasm. While I’m still gasping for breath the rhythmic clench and release of my muscles along with our shallow undulations bring Sebastian undone with a shuddering cry, his arms pulling me down onto his chest so he can drive into me as he spills his seed, breathing heavily onto my neck.

I stretch out beside him on the bed while he disposes of the condom and lays an arm out, inviting me onto his sweat-covered chest.

“Wow,” he whispers against my hair.

“Mmmm.” That’s about the extent of my vocabulary.

There’s silence for a few minutes while we both regain our breath and senses, sweat cooling on our skin until Sebastian pulls the covers over us both.

“I’ll get up as soon as my legs work,” I say with a soft laugh, stretching them out alongside his so our feet almost touch.

“Don’t,” he says as he pulls me closer into his warmth. “Unless you want to, I mean. Otherwise I think that deserves an encore.”

“Okay.” I shrug and turn over in his arms, pressing my lips to his neck.

“Hold up, I can’t reload that quick!” He laughs. “I meant in the morning.”

“Oh thank god.”

“You are a little surprise package.” He tilts my face up with one finger beneath my chin, kissing my lips tenderly.

I yawn and nuzzle his neck, breathing in his cologne and the heady scent of sex that fills the room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I love the pre-dawn hours when all is quiet and there’s just a hint of light in the sky. Quiet inside, at least – I doubt I'll ever get used to the noise of New York. I’ve always loved this time of day- when I was a child in Jackson, I'd often be up at this time reading or writing in my journal, or tinkering away quietly with dad's computer. My favourite place is by the biggest window I can find, so I can see the light gradually change as the sun prepares to splinter over the horizon, and while it was a little different from my modest bedroom in Nebraska, the effect is the same from Sebastian's apartment window as it is from my current one.

Sebastian has a silky soft leather armchair, its creases like the smile lines on the face of an elderly woman, worn in with a lifetime of joy. With a window on one side and a bookshelf on the other, I feel completely at home curled up in it with my iPad, replying to some work emails while the moon tracks over the city. I'm marking up a report for a meeting next week, sending questions and ideas off to department heads – all of whom know they need to put their devices on silent overnight if they don't want to read my emails in the middle of the night.

Soft footsteps swish on the hardwood floor a few feet away and when I look up, Sebastian is yawning with his arms stretched above his head, showing off every inch of muscle above his low slung pants. They're buttery-soft cotton and he still has the just-fucked hair I left him in bed with.

“I thought you sneaked out until I found your clothes on the floor, are you ok?”

“Yeah.” I nod and hold up my iPad. “Just doing some work.”

His face contorts like he's not sure whether to smile or frown – he's just noticed I'm wearing nothing but his shirt and I didn't bother buttoning it, but he's also likely thinking I'm batshit crazy. He might have a point.

“Doll, it's not even 4am. Come back to bed.”

“I know, I... I don't sleep a lot.”

“Who said anything about sleeping? I just found you bathed in moonlight wearing only my shirt.” He steps in and slips his fingers inside the opening, pushing it gently aside like the curtains on a piece of modern art, guiding it off my shoulders until it falls and I'm completely naked. “God, you're so beautiful.”

That's about all the convincing I need.


	4. Distraction

The next time I wake up pale sunlight is filtering through the curtains and Buzz is still lying beside me in the bed with the covers pushed down to the cleft of her ass. In this light the whole scene has a dream-like quality, which is much more pleasant than waking up at three-something alone and horny. I prop another pillow under my head for a better view and can't hold back a satisfied sigh at the sight of her almost naked glory in my bed. One side of her back is almost covered with an intricate phoenix, the head on her shoulder blade and the tail feathers below her waist, the other side is smooth and untouched but for a few scattered freckles. My eyes trail down the valley of her spine to the dimple at its base but I resist touching her because I don't want to wake her. With both arms raised and draped over the pillow I can study the edge of the roses that outline her breast more closely and in the light I can now see the soft red touches and the buds just before it disappears from view.

All I'd dared hope for last night was her phone number, maybe a stolen kiss, when I told her I don't normally sleep with women I just met it was an understatement – last night was the first time I've ever had sex without at least one date first. Buzz just felt different, like the connection I need to develop first was at the same time implied and irrelevant. I'm itching to know more about her though, and I desperately want to know her real name. Perhaps it's long or embarrassing, perhaps she just doesn't want me to know who she is. I have to admit I like the idea of her not knowing who I am.

She turns to face me and smiles, her bright eyes have clearly been awake for some time.  
“Hey.” I push a lock of hair from her eyes, the light catching more of a peridot colour this morning and revealing two tiny gold spheres just above her eyebrow. I'm starting to wonder how many other piercings she's hiding, and now my cock is stirring against the sheet.   
“Morning.”  
I lean in and kiss her softly, her eyes falling to my lips.  
“So, Buzz... what do you do that has you working so early in the morning.”  
“I design software.”  
Not what I was expecting. “Really? Cool, what sort of software?”  
“A bit of everything really, a big part of it is suites of mobile applications and desktop software with custom integration. I recently bought another company with a few capabilities we were lacking in.”  
“I don't know what I would have pictured you doing, but that's not it.”  
She laughs. “You have no idea how often I hear that. What do you do?”  
I hesitate for a second but I'm not sure why I don't want to tell her. “I'm... an actor.”  
“Awesome, anything I'd know? Movies? TV? Theatre?”  
Warmth flushes my cheeks. “Uh... a bit of everything. Captain America? The Martian?”  
She gives me a blank look. “Please don't be offended, I don't watch that many movies. Captain America must be a pretty big deal, though.”  
“Well I don't play Cap, but the franchise is pretty big I guess. I just wrapped my last film with Marvel, that's why we went out last night.”  
“So what's next?”  
“A bit of a break, then I have some other stuff coming up.” I cover a yawn with my hand. “Seriously, how do you survive on so little sleep?”  
“I make up for it later.”  
I lie back with an arm above my head and she moves in closer to lay her head on my chest, her delicate fingers splaying in the hair over my breastbone.

I didn't mean to doze off again but she just felt so nice in my arms, all warm and naked. When I wake up again she's sitting on the edge of the bed in a towel with her hair dripping onto her shoulders.   
“I should get home,” she says, checking her phone.   
“At least have some breakfast first. What do you feel like?” I sit up and turn toward her. “Pancakes? Bacon?”  
“No need for anything fancy, toast will be fine. If you point me in the right direction I'll even make it myself.”  
“Let me have a shower while you get dressed and I'll round up some toast. And a very large coffee for me.”  
“I'm sorry,” she says with a sympathetic smile. “I didn't mean to take away your beauty sleep.”  
“Don't be, it was worth it. Besides, I'm not doing anything today.”   
I can't hide a stupefied grin at the scratches on my chest while I'm waiting for the water to warm up. The slightly hungover tiredness today is totally worth it.

As I'm emerging from the bathroom I hear Buzz in the kitchen, water filling a glass and the rattle of a pill bottle. I'm about to see if she needs anything when I realise she's on the phone and although I try not to eavesdrop my apartment isn't big enough for me not to overhear.   
“Yes, Alex. I'm fine.... taking it as we speak... define reckless,” she says around something in her mouth. She laughs, that laugh that makes me want to join in. “No, nothing. I promise. I'll be home in a bit... thanks, sweet.”  
By the time I pull on pants and a shirt she's made coffee and toast and is waiting for me, dressed in her clothes from last night. The woman is a machine, I'm sure I was only gone five minutes.  
“I planned on this at least being a team effort but I see you found everything ok.”  
She blushes and bites her lip. “Yeah... is that ok? Apparently sometimes I don't consider - “  
“It's fine, doll. Looks perfect.”  
While she's eating with the other hand I reach out and inspect the tattoo on her wrist – a sun, moon, and stars.   
“Do they have particular meaning, your tattoos? Or are they just ones you liked.”  
“Some have meaning. The roses were just something Jez drew – he's done all my tats – and I loved it so much I asked him to put it there. He's done most of my piercings as well.”  
“I feel like I missed so many last night in the dark that every time I look at you there's a new one.”  
“I'm pretty sure you've seen them all now,” she says with a soft chuckle.  
“Are you ever going to tell me your real name or where you grew up, or do you like being mysterious?”  
“Seriously, everyone I know calls me Buzz. And I grew up in a little village that would rival TMZ for its gossip, nothing mysterious about it. How about you?”  
I decide to let go of the name thing and move on. “Born in Romania, came here when I was eleven.”  
“Romania? Cool. Tell me about it.”  
By the time I realise she's just been dragging more and more information from me so she doesn't have to talk about herself we're both finished eating.  
“Can I see you again, Buzz?”  
The way she hesitates she might as well have just poked me with a pin until I deflated on the floor. “Maybe.”

Before she leaves she at least gives in to exchanging phone numbers but rejects my offer to drive her home, insisting it's a short walk from here. The rest of the day I try to stay busy because as soon as I stop I can hear her laugh, her moans, her breathy voice. In just one night she has started to get under my skin and I thought we had a really great time, and the sex... Christ. The sex was amazing. Buzz knows her body and knows what she likes, having her put my hands where she wanted them and pleasure herself while she rode me... damn. I hate to say it but I feel uncomfortably threatened by the idea that she used me for one exhilarating night and doesn’t want to see me again, which is leaving me with an emasculated aftertaste I really don’t like. Why shouldn’t she? She’s a grown woman who made it clear at the beginning she didn’t want anything more, and people do this all the time.

I have to get out of the house, so I head off to the gym in the hope it will clear my head.

Mike insists we go out for drinks again that night since we didn't really talk the night before, and when he's ready to leave I'm just tipsy enough to do exactly what I shouldn't. I call her.   
“Sebastian?” she answers smoothly.  
“Hi.” I scratch the back of my head, realising too late I was thinking with my dick instead of my brain again. “What are you doing?”  
“Working. What's up?”  
“I didn't mean to interrupt, I was just out and thought I'd see if you wanted a drink or something.”  
“Or something?” I can hear the smirk in her voice.  
“Yeah. But if you're working...”  
“Only because my brain never stops. I can meet you somewhere if you like.”  
“Of we can skip that and you just come over.”  
“Sure, if you want to throw out the pretense and admit this is a booty call.” She laughs. “How about I'll see you in half an hour?”

Buzz is more casual this evening but no less sexy in fitted jeans and a flowing blue tank top. With flats on her feet she has to rise up on her toes to kiss me hello, her arms wrapping easily around my neck as I hold her waist and pull her inside with our mouths attached. Without a word I lift beneath her ass, wrapping her legs around my hips and carrying her the short distance to the bedroom to sit on the end of the bed with her straddling my lap. She peels off my shirt and my hands slide up her back beneath hers, I'll admit I was planning on unfastening her bra but the fact she isn't wearing one makes me groan into her neck. Leaning back she kisses down the side of my neck behind my ear, licking that spot that drives me crazy as she stands up and then sinks to her knees on the floor in front of me, slowly unfastening my jeans. I lift my hips for her to push them down and while I'm kicking them off she takes my cock in her hand, eyeing it hungrily and licking her lips. My eyes fall closed for a second and she surprises me by taking my balls in her mouth first, sucking gently and separating them with her tongue while her hand glides up and down my shaft.  
“Fuuuuuuck,” I moan. “That is so good, baby.”

She switches and takes the head of my cock in her mouth and it's then I feel the stud in her tongue run smoothly around the edge and over the sweet spot under the tip. Her eyes never leave mine and they never falter as she takes more of my length past her lips, one hand guiding from the base or squeezing my balls while the other rubs my thigh. Occasionally she releases me with a pop, licking at the tip a few times before taking me almost to her throat in long fluid strokes and repeating the cycle. I can't help but run my fingers through her pink hair, lightly at first but they grow more forceful as she builds me higher until I have a fist full of hair at the back of her head, guiding her up and down my shaft while she responds with deep moans.   
“You like my hands in your hair, doll?”  
She moans and nods, taking so much of my dick I feel the back of her throat as she barely holds back a gag.   
And then I have to break the eye contact because I'm in serious danger of coming in her throat, which isn't really what I had planned. With every ounce of willpower in my possession I drag her back and off, guiding her back up to my mouth and kissing her eagerly while she steps out of her jeans and tosses her top over her head.

I use my weight advantage to toss her onto the bed where she giggles and crosses her legs.   
“Don't play shy, now,” I say.   
At that she slowly opens her legs, displaying her cunt in all its glistening glory, her essence clinging to her lips as they part. I keep my eyes focussed on hers as I stalk up the bed and settle between her spread thighs, taking a first taste with the tip of my tongue before licking a long stripe between her lips.   
God, she tastes as good as she feels.   
I alternate slipping my tongue inside with fluttering licks on her clit while she writhes and bucks beneath me, her hands in my hair, and on my shoulders, or gripping the sheets like her life depends on it. Her sporadic moans come loud and fast as she nears orgasm and I suck her bud into my mouth, shaking my head with tiny rapid movements until she screams and drives her hips against me before backing away as though I've burned her, her thighs shaking around me and her creamy essence spilling onto the sheets.

Wiping the back of my hand over my face I kiss and suck my way back up her body, delighting in her sweet sighs as she comes down and the whimpers of pleasure when I lap at her pierced nipples. I watch her carefully as I take a condom from the drawer and put it on, guide my cock between her folds and into her pussy, still pulsating and pulling me deeper while I bury it inside her warmth with a groan. Covering her body with mine, I kiss her slowly as I start to move, drawing her moans straight into my throat. Her breasts rub against my chest with each push and her nails leave crescents in my shoulders where she holds on to me. Just a few minutes of slow thrusts has her on the edge again, begging me to go faster, deeper, harder.

I sit back and stretch her legs up so her ankles are on my shoulders and increase the pace, and she immediately ruts against me until she shatters with a fractured sob and her muscles tighten in ripples around my cock. Without giving her a chance to recover I push back on her legs until she folds over, slamming hard and fast into her and lowering my head between her feet to kiss her. Her cunt is still spasming when I find release with a guttural moan, gritting my teeth and shoving deep inside one last time to fill the condom.

Her head grows heavier as she relaxes into sleep a while later, resting on my chest while my fingertips draw a long line up and down her spine. “If you can't sleep later feel free to wake me up,” I whisper into her hair.   
“Deal.”  
And she does.

Twice.

By the time she extricates herself on Sunday afternoon both of our bodies are aching and spent and it takes me two days to recover from the lack of sleep. I still don't know her name but I think she might be trying to kill me.

 


	5. Elevation

##  Buzz

I've barely locked the door and hung up my keys and coat before there's a knock on the door in my loungeroom, the one that leads to the apartment next door. Alex doesn't bother waiting for a response, as always she counts to three and opens the door.

“I was starting to worry, sweetie,” she says.

“Sorry, we lost track of time,” I reply, stifling a giggle as I open the laptop at the kitchen bench. “Can we talk in, say, ten minutes? I think I solved one of our integration problems on the way home and I need to get it out of my head before I lose it.”

“Sure, you know where I am.”

Four hours later she returns, tapping her foot on the kitchen tiles. “Buzz?”

“Hm?” I don't look up from the flurry of typing code.

“You were going to come and talk?”

“Sorry, I... you know.”

“Yeah. Lost track of time, got distracted.” She nods. “Are you okay? Taken your meds?”

“I told you... told you this morning I had. I just... just... just need to get this done.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

“This morning. And we had a nap after... after lunch.”

“When was the last time you slept longer than three hours?”

I shake my head and keep typing. The woman does not understand you can't just stop in the middle of programming, you have to continue until it's finished.

“Buzz? Look at me.... Buzz? Jubilee Edison, for fuck's sake listen to me!”

Shit, now I'm in trouble, she's using my full name. “What?” I snap.

“You have one hour to finish up. Save it, send it on to someone else, whatever you need to do. One. Hour. I'll bring you some dinner and then you're going to sleep.”

“Alex, I'm... I'm f-fine.”

“Listen to yourself, you're slurring and stuttering. Honey, you have to stop.”

Finally I look over the screen at her. My brain is at war with itself, the left saying we must push forward while the inspiration and ideas are flowing, while the right knows that I simply can't function for much longer. “Okay.” I nod. “You're right.”

A minute after she's gone I groan in frustration, my train of innovative thought well and truly derailed by her interruption. I don't want to sleep, I want to finish what I started. Alex is and always has been my closest friend and family member, not just a cousin but the person who is dearest in this entire world to me. At two years my senior, I've looked up to her from the day I opened my eyes; she always had her shit together and was so much cooler than me, and I can never repay what she's done for me. When I left our tiny village of Jackson, Nebraska for the last time, when everyone I loved had turned their back and handed me over to white coated professionals who still used treatments from last century, when I truly felt I didn't belong in this world and it would be better without me – Alex welcomed me to her shoebox apartment in New York with open arms and no questions asked. Over the years, she's given me tough love when I needed it, forgiven all manner of indiscretions, and loved me unconditionally no matter what my mental state. I literally trust her with my life and she always, without fail, knows what's best for me. The problem is that I often question her and want to fight back if she pushes me. My heart knows she's right, but the dodgy wiring in my brain won't let me admit it.

When she next comes into my apartment she has a plate of food and 2 bottles of pills. I've saved what I was working on and closed it down, because the longer I tried to get back to it, the more angry I became at the intrusion, and I can still feel that rage simmering slowly away in the pit of my stomach, burning holes in the lining like lava. The aroma of bacon and garlic reminds me I haven't properly eaten a meal in days- I can't actually recall my last meal.

“Penne carbonara,” she says, setting it down.

“With a side of my good friends Valium and Ambien?” I quip, holding out my hand for the pills and tossing the oval-shaped one into my mouth. Swallowing it with a mouthful of water I set the other down beside the glass on the bench and sit down.

“Are you pissed at me?” she asks.

“I was so fucking close, Alex,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

She just nods. We choreographed this particular number a long time ago – I bait her, she refuses to bite, I push her buttons, she remains passive and doesn't engage me until I calm down. I'm the tantruming child and she's the infinitely patient mother. She'll be an amazing mother one day. I wonder if she and Hugh plan on starting as soon as they're married next year? I bet they do, I reckon if not for me, they'd have done it a long time ago, and I do feel guilty sometimes that she does so much for me. She's not getting any younger, they should probably be trying already...

“Thank you,” I say, after a few calming breaths to bring me back to the present. “For everything.”

“You're welcome.” She kisses my cheek and pulls me into a hug that I'm quick to reciprocate. “Sweet dreams, honey. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

After the second pill and a quick shower I don't have much choice but to slip into bed and go to sleep. I've tried so many times in the past to fight it that I know it's futile and I only end up with that awful out of control feeling of being dragged into unconsciousness rather than falling gently to sleep. Right when my eyes grow heavy and blurred I struggle to read a message from Sebastian.

_ Can we have dinner next weekend? _

I sigh as I set the phone down on the table beside my bed and close my eyes. I've long given up on long term relationships, but nonetheless, his message makes my chest flutter and I fall asleep with a smile on my lips.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Good morning!” Sabine says cheerily, setting a large coffee cup down on my glass desk.

Sabine is, by her position title, my personal assistant, but she's so much more than that. I do pay a handsome salary to my General Manager, Derek, to ensure the business runs efficiently day to day, but it's Sabine who actually makes it happen. She understands my lightning fast yammering, she takes notes like a boss, and she has initiative enough to get projects going without needing permission. Which is perfect, because I frequently forget to give it to her, or that I’ve even asked her to look into something.

I look down at my watch. “Shit, is it eight already?”

“Yeah, hon. You haven't been here all night, have you?”

“No, just a couple of hours.” I thought I was being super efficient but evidently time has gotten away from me. Since the weekend, I've listened to Alex and had three straight nights of reasonable sleep, six or seven hours a night, and in half of a work week I have two new mobile apps almost ready for release. Small utilities like these are where I began, where I first discovered a natural affinity for programming and software design, and I still write as many of them as I can on my own before I send them off to our development team for testing.

“Is there anything you need this morning?”

“No, thanks. I'll let you know if I do.”

“I'll keep going with yesterday's list then.”

I did give her quite a pile of work yesterday, I think she'll be occupied with it for a month.

Sabine has just set down my lunch when my phone rings loudly on the desk beside me and without thinking I answer it.

“Hey,” Sebastian says on the other end. “And here I thought you were ignoring me.”

“I wasn't, I've just been flat out with work. What's up?”

“Can I take you out for dinner? I was going to suggest the weekend but any time really.”

“Sure.”

“Really?” He sounds genuinely surprised. “How about tonight?”

“Yeah, ok. Text me when and where and I'll be there.”

He hesitates a couple of seconds. “What sort of food do you like?”

“I just like food.” I laugh. “You really can't go wrong.”

“I'll text you in a little while, then. See you tonight.”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He meets me outside his apartment and takes me to a Moroccan restaurant that I don't think I could find again if my life depended on it. It's not one of the new popular ones where you have to wait hours for a table, but a tiny secluded place where honestly I'd be disappointed if there weren't some sort of illegal dealings going on in the back room. The food is divine, the music is soft, and the conversation is flowing like a fine wine.

“You don't have the accent of a New Yorker,” he says. “But I can't place it.”

“I'm a small town girl, born and raised in Jackson.” I deliberately don’t tell him  _ which  _ Jackson, he’ll never have heard of it anyway and it’s not the setting for my fondest memories. “I moved here as a teen.”

He's just been telling me more about Romania and coming here from Vienna. I hope he's not expecting my story to be half as exciting.”Siblings?”

“One younger brother, Dax. You?”

“Nope, spoiled only child.”

“It shows.” I laugh and he joins in, his cobalt blue eyes lighting up with his smile.

I can feel those eyes drawing me in, taking me gently by the hand and coaxing all of the closest-held secrets from my mind. And then literally in the time it takes me to blink, he shifts gears, his square jaw clenched as his eyes flick down to the crease between my breasts without even feigned subtlety. His fingers curl around the glass in front of him but rather than pick it up, he teases it with a light finger swirled around its rim until it whines almost inaudibly and I have to swallow and cross my legs. I’ve been so distracted by memories of Sebastian’s touch the past few days, the way he handles me and touches all the right places, treats me like a porcelain ornament to be appreciated rather than an easy slut because I love my own body. Sure, it’s fun to pretend sometimes, but it’s a breath of fresh air compared to some of the men I’ve ended up with. God forbid I actually enjoy sex, what would my mother say?

“Buzz?”

“Hm?” Shit, I’ve probably just been staring at him this whole time. “Sorry, got lost in thought. What did you say?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I asked if you’d like dessert.”

“Well that depends whether you mean dessert... or  _ dessert, _ ” I give him my cheesiest wink, drawing a quiet laugh. It’s a warm, genuine laugh, and I get the impression he couldn’t fake that if he wanted to.

He licks his lips slowly. “Which would you prefer, doll?”

“Both.”


	6. Flummox

Even as our fingers are intertwined on the approach to my building, her hands threading into my hair as I lean her against the wall of the elevator and kiss her hungrily as I’ve wanted to do all night, tasting the sweet honey from dessert on her plump lips... something is off. All evening she’s fidgeted and not been able to sit still and on more than one occasion her hands trembled as she held her cutlery or her glass. But then her head falls back against the wall and I press my lips to her neck, coaxing her coat and the strap of her dress off the curve of her shoulder and following them with wet kisses, and everything else fades away. Her scent fills my head like a fog and all I can focus on is getting her body wrapped around mine.

It’s all I can do to get her inside before our clothes are discarded like breadcrumbs marking a path to the bedroom. She crawls up from the foot of the bed while I open the nightstand drawer and pull out a box of condoms with a proud smile.   
“I went with the bulk pack, should last us at least a week. Do you fancy ribbed, studded, warming, or flavoured?”  
“Surprise me,” she says, looking up through her lashes at me.  
I close my eyes and pinch one between two fingers, tossing it on to the pillow without looking. “Stay right there,” I instruct.   
Buzz freezes cat-like on hands and knees and I ghost my fingertips down the rise and fall of her spine and back up to the nape of her neck, making her drop her head forward as goosebumps cover her skin. I lie back, propping my head on two pillows, and pull her on top to kiss her deeply while my hands knead her breasts and she rolls her hips over my cock. Guiding her up I bring her hardened nipple into my mouth, sucking it gently and humming around it when she whimpers.   
“Oh god, Sebastian.”  
I release her nipple and move to the other side so that they’re both sharp points with the piercing shining in the bedside light. Among the many things I’d love to know about her is exactly how it feels to have the gold posts shift back and forth through such a sensitive and sensual part of her body. Just touching one with a fingertip or tongue makes her whine like I’ve never heard before, I already know she’s easily overstimulated but it’s such an arousing sound I can feel precum leaking onto my stomach.

“Turn around,” I say softly, guiding her hips to the side. “Show me that pretty pussy.”  
Buzz shifts without argument until her knees are on either side of my shoulders, spreading her thighs wide over my face.   
As I part her folds and dip my thumb gently into her juices she lowers her tits onto my lower abdomen and takes the tip of my dick between her lips, circling around it slowly with her tongue. My fingers dig into her hips as I bring them down, moaning into her soaked folds as I press a gentle kiss to her opening. I take my time, breaching her with my tongue and fingers, watching her juices cling to my skin as I withdraw them, exposing her bud and feeling it swell and throb as I lap at it. The vibration of her moans around my shaft makes me gasp until I have to pull back and focus on not spilling down her throat.  
“Wait, wait.”   
Buzz lifts her head and sweeps sweat-dampened pink hair from her face. “What’s wrong?”  
“I can’t concentrate.”   
She rests her forehead on my hip and a giggle shakes her body. “You want me to stop so you can focus on your... your dessert?”  
“Yes,” I say, kissing her outer lips again.   
Still chuckling, she pushes up to rest on her hands and the sound is soon replaced with moans of pleasure when I eat at her more fervently. I listen intently as they rise in pitch and volume, coming closer together as she rolls her hips and rubs her clit frantically on my lips and tongue while my fingers beckon her orgasm from within.

For a few seconds she’s completely silent, the slick sound of my fingers and mouth the only sound in the room, and her body turns rigid before her thighs shake and threaten to collapse. A piercing moan tears from her throat as her muscles clamp down on my fingers, pulsating and expelling her creamy nectar while I continue kissing her gently and blowing cool air on her hot skin. With a satisfied hum I release her hips and she turns back to facing me, draping her body on top of mine and sucking her juices from my tongue in an urgent kiss.

Her lips make their way down my neck to my chest and she reaches for the condom packet while nipping and sucking at me, leaving a purple love bite right beside my nipple with a devilish smile. She sits back on top of my thighs and fists my cock, stroking up and down a few times with her delicate fingers. Again her hands are trembling as she tears the packet and positions it over my tip, I reach down and cover them with my own, guiding her fingers as they carefully unroll it to the base. The look in her eyes when she smiles up at me is just a little bashful but she diverts my attention by rising up to her knees and taking my length inside, grinding down on my cock with a groan. I bend my knees up to support her back and she rides me slow and deep, my hands holding her hips to a steady pace while hers tease her own nipples and squeeze her round breasts.  
“Fuck that’s hot, you’re so fuckin’ sexy,” I say through gritted teeth.   
Spurred on, she carries on with one hand while the other splays out over her mound, her fingertips brushing my shaft as she makes slow circles around her clit. I immediately feel her muscles clench in response and she leans back on my legs.  
“Come for me, Buzz.”   
I thrust up against her, driving my cock further inside as her fingers move faster and heavy moans issue from her throat. It’s all I can do to hold off until I feel that first grip of her internal muscles and erupt inside her with shuddering thrusts as she milks me with her spasms.

I take her hands and pull her forward onto my heaving chest, her breaths short and rapid as she comes down and relaxes into my body. It feels like hours we lie together until the sweat has cooled on our sticky skin and she carefully moves onto the bed beside me.   
“Can you stay the night?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed.  
“Yeah, but I have to go to work in the morning so I might be gone early.”  
“Wake me up, I don’t mind. I have to go to the gym early anyway.”  
Spread out on the bed she runs a hand roughly through the front of her hair and then scrubs it over her face. “I need... I need a shower.”  
“Come on, then.” I scoop her up and she wraps her arms around my neck, her head back as her cackling laughter echoes around the bathroom.   
“Put me down!”  
“As you wish.” I shrug and set her down in front of the shower head, flicking the cold water on.  
She curses at me and fumbles for the hot tap with one hand while pulling me in front of her with the other, using me as a shield until the water warms up.   
“Are we even now?” I ask, leaning down to kiss her under the now steamy spray.  
She nips at my tongue with her teeth. “Now we are.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**Sebastian**

I'm startled awake by her thrashing and whimpering beside me, clutching at the duvet with sweat beading on her forehead.  
“Buzz? What's wrong?”  
“No,” she murmurs softly. “No, please... please... I'll be good. No!”  
My heart starts to race and I'm wide awake in a matter of seconds. “Doll, you're just dreaming.”  
“Please,” she sobs.   
I catch her hand as she lashes out and hold it firmly. “Buzz, wake up.”  
She turns her head and her eyes fly open, wild with terror and wet with tears, her expression and body frozen in shock.  
“You ok?” I whisper, reaching out to stroke her cheek.  
Even through the tears that now flow freely down her cheeks she nods and wipes them away.  
“Come here.” I open my arms for her to cuddle in to me and after a few seconds of hesitation she buries her face in my chest.  
As soon as my arms wrap around her she cries again, the sobbing, hiccoughing, uncontrollable cry of someone who has held it back until the floodgates burst. All I can do is hold her close and stroke her back until her shoulders stop shaking, offer her the box of tissues from the nightstand when she's ready.  
“Sorry,” she whispers without looking up.  
“Shh.” I kiss the top of her head. “It's ok. Do you want to talk about it?”  
“No.”  
She sniffs as she snuggles back into my chest and I feel fresh tears soak into my skin, holding her tight once more and rubbing her back while she cries herself to sleep. I'm still awake an hour later, wondering what the hell the nightmare was about. Knowing she doesn't speak of her past or her family and hearing her say 'I'll be good' has sent a chill down my spine that's not going to thaw in a hurry.

“Mmmmm,” I hum at the fingers slowly combing through my hair, waking from a light, restless sleep.  
Buzz presses her lips to my forehead. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”  
“What time is it?” I ask, squinting at the harsh light.   
“Almost seven.”  
When my eyes start to adjust I realise she's dressed in her clothes from last night. “You're leaving already?”  
“Yeah.” She sighs.  
“Are you all right? Do you want to talk about last night?”  
“I'm fine.” The smile she gives me is clearly forced. “Just a nightmare. I'm sorry I woke you.”  
“Please don't apologise. Can I walk you home?”  
“No, stay in bed for a bit. It's raining outside.” She rubs her thumb gently over the stubble on my cheek and kisses me before she leaves.  
I'm falling for her. The injurious, crashing onto sharp rocks kind of falling. I'm caring less and less about not knowing her name, not because of Romeo and Juliet's 'a rose by any other name' sentiment, but because there's no rush. The slow striptease she's employing to reveal tiny details like crumbs as we go along is only encouraging me to come back for more.

 


	7. Gathering

**Buzz**

As soon as I'm inside my apartment that night I toss back two painkillers and let Alex know I'm taking myself to bed. This time there's no need for pills to knock me out, I've struggled with exhaustion and looked forward to sleeping all day, my entire body aches from head to toe and my brain is crying out for rest by bashing itself against my skull. My clothes make a pile on the floor as I toss them off, pulling on my favourite sleep attire – an oversized Nike t-shirt I permanently borrowed from my first and last boyfriend. I can smell Sebastian on my skin and hair and I'm mildly disturbed as much by the sense of security it elicits as the cringe-worthy memory of crying in his arms. He seems like such a good man, so kind hearted and tender, and the smile almost never leaves my face when we're together. I find myself not only attracted to him but enamoured with who I am when he's around, the way my mind somewhat quietens down. And the sex... pure heaven. The things that man can do with his tongue should be illegal. I'm convinced he wants more from me, though – more than I have to give – and he should have it. A man like Sebastian deserves better than the love I have to offer, even on my best days.

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Saturday is farmers' market day for Alex and I – some quality time together while we shop for the week's fresh food. I'm sipping on a fresh lemonade and savouring the aroma of fresh juicy cherries when she asks how I'm going.   
“I feel good, actually. Really good. Balanced and content.”  
“I can tell. So tell me about your date the other night.”  
“It wasn't a date, Alex. It was a booty call with dinner first.”  
“And you spent the night.”  
“I spent the night because it leads to more sex, that's all.”  
“Uh huh. And you've done that three times in a week.”  
“Alex, the sex is incredible. Mind blowing. The 1812 Overture with live cannons.”  
“You'll be seeing him again, then?”  
I shake my head. “It's not fair to lead him on, even fuck buddies have a mutual give and take arrangement. All I do is take.”  
“Buzz, you can't shut out the entire world – ”  
“Oooh, look. Peaches.”  
I don't even have to look to feel her eyes roll.

As we weave in and out of stalls I'm deliberately taking the time to soak in the atmosphere; the sweet coconut scent of hand made soap, the sound of a busker warbling out a folk song to a lonely guitar, the morning sun heating my bare back on its way to another perfect summer day, the colours of not only the rainbow of fruits and vegetables but the people that mill around us like a choreographed dance where everyone supplied their own costume. This wouldn't have been possible last week, instead of appreciating it I'd have jammed headphones in my ears and shopped as quickly as possible to avoid the assault of people within my personal space. Last week everything was too loud, too bright, too strong. I've learned to appreciate this in between time when I can pretend to be a functioning member of society, when I _want_ to be out engaging with the world rather than shutting it out or trying to rise above and improve it by having the answer to all of the universe's problems.   
It really is 42, by the way. I proved it with a mathematical equation once. The process didn't make a whole lot of sense later or to anyone who wasn't in my head, but at the time I actually believed I might be god because it came to me so easily.

If depression is the big black dog – I've always pictured a hell hound, personally – then mania for me is a squirrel dosed up on adrenaline. He's tittering all over the place, paranoid someone is stealing his nuts when really he just came up with a super hiding place and immediately forgot exactly where it was. He doesn't stop to eat or sleep, just keeps on making random disorganised piles of nuts in increasingly adventurous places – the higher up the tree the better, no other animal is capable of such death defying feats! Often he'll pause a moment and wonder if it might be more advantageous to collect some other form of food, surely none of the other squirrels have considered that before, he's going to be the most successful and worshipped squirrel ever to dart frantically about the earth. In the middle of all this frenzy he's driven and constantly distracted by the carnal need to mate with every female he can get his little paws on and thoroughly impress those he can't with his beautifully bushy tail, making sure they know what they're missing out on by not showing him the attention he clearly deserves. But then, the inconsistent rustle of the leaves in the wind starts to grate on his nerves, and the female squirrels want to touch him and start up a meaningful relationship, the world is too bright and the colours hurt his eyes, the scent of the nuts turns his stomach. And always, the shadow of the hell hound looms in the background, stalking a wide circle and waiting for the moment his guard is down and the mania has left in its wake the sickening exhaustion and hangover of adrenaline, taking with it the memory and comprehension of those grand schemes that remain unfinished. It waits, appears to sleep just out of sight, until he's found the equilibrium that is neither the calm before the storm or the wave before the trough, it just is. When he feels like just another squirrel going about his business, the black dog will take his pound of flesh as payment for the euphoria, dragging it piece by piece from his numb body until only the shell remains holed up in the dark and begging for a peaceful death. The cycle is almost comforting in its predictability, at least I know what's coming next.

Today is a good day. The hangover has passed and I have perhaps a month or so before my bill is due and the black dog will visit to inflict his tortuous payment plan. And so we shop. We spend the afternoon cooking and eat dinner together in Alex's apartment, the three of us enjoying food and wine and dessert, making small talk like regular people. Sunday I finish the book I've been reading, starting again from the beginning now that my mind isn't leaping all over the place and making my eyes read the paragraphs out of order. Reading a good book during an episode is a double-edged sword, I can read and process at what feels like warp speed but I don't actually enjoy the story, the aim is solely to reach the end as fast as possible and put it away. Now I take the time to enjoy it. When Sebastian calls I'm in the middle of the third to last page so I let it go to voicemail and call him back a few minutes later.  
“I'll be honest,” I tell him. “I was finishing my book and didn't want to put it down.”  
“Good to know I'm not too high on your priorities.” He laughs. “How was your weekend?”  
“Great, actually. Quiet, but I needed a quiet one. I'm already in bed.”  
“I won't invite you over like I was planning, then. Can I see you again this week, or on the weekend?”  
“Sebastian...” Fuck, I'm terrible at this. I sit up and toy with the hem of my shirt. “I-I don't date. I don't get involved in relationships. We had a great time, but I think it's best if we leave it at that.”  
Silence.  
“I'm sorry.”  
“Don't be,” he says. “If that's what you want. Maybe we could stay in touch as friends, though? I honestly just love hanging out with you.”  
Is it what I want? I thought it was, the policy has worked well for me so far. Inevitably people get hurt when they're around me, I'm not proud of it but it's the truth. That one and only boyfriend I had years ago? I cheated on him repeatedly, ripped the poor sweet man's heart right from his chest. The guilt was crushing and sent me into a depressive cycle for months on end, when I clawed my way out I vowed never to inflict myself on a man again except for short casual arrangements. This most recent one with Sebastian is the longest I've had since, a whole week, and I'm finding it more difficult to let it go.   
“Sure, that would be lovely.”

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Lunar Solutions isn't your average tech company. Actually, I've seen a few recently that run with the same casual leadership style and focus on results rather than keeping regular work hours, who let their employees select their own attire and treat them to massages and video game breaks. I'm somewhere in the middle, lacking in resources such as the likes of Google, Facebook, or Microsoft but treating my staff like grown ups who are capable of deciding their own schedules as long as the work happens. With the exception of Derek and our Business Development team we dress casually and I allow them autonomy over their hours as long as they're available at short notice for meetings. Derek and Sabine are the only ones who know the extent of my mental illness and I have 100% faith in them both to keep things going when I'm not here.  
“Did we hear back about the Olympics contract we quoted on?” I ask when she comes in with two coffees, handing one to me.  
“No,” she says, scrolling on her phone. “But the date they gave us isn't until... tomorrow. I'll call them on Monday if we don't hear before.”  
“Thanks. This one is almost ready for you to proofread and send.”

Sebastian and I have been exchanging texts for almost a month, but he's been in Los Angeles meeting with his agent and I've been flat out trying to bring in some new contracts so seeing each other face to face has proved impossible. I don't necessarily think this is a bad thing, I hope by the time I see him again I'll be less affected by his proximity and ready to be friends. I've haven't had a lot of friends since dropping out of school, at that point I wasn't the sort of person people gravitate towards, more the type they avoid like the plague – there's only so many times your friends will cop your reckless behaviour and irrational mood swings before they realise you don't actually bring anything to the friendship and move on. The painful truth is that I'm not a good friend to have – I can be downright mean and not consider other people's feelings, I can go weeks without speaking to someone and think that's perfectly fine, and when I'm in this happy medium sort of state I'm so busy making up for the ups and downs that I tend to forget about repairing my relationships. Frankly it's too much effort and I think I do just nicely without it.

Despite working until almost nine pm I feel like I've barely achieved anything the last few days and the task list in my notebook backs up my thoughts. I'm distracted and unmotivated, my mind and body are both sluggish, I can feel myself fading and sinking into the darkness. I've just called it a day when my phone pings with a new text.  
 _[Just got in from LA, can we hang out tonight?]_  
[Dude, you've been gone too long. NO ONE says 'hang out' any more.]  
[How about Netflix and chill?]  
[Nice try. I only just left work, can we make it another time?]  
[Sure. Name it and I'll be there.]  
I stash my phone in my bag and continue the rest of the way home with legs that feel like lead.

“You look like hell,” Alex says.   
“Thanks, you too,” I reply with a laugh.   
“Swimming tomorrow, be ready at 6.”  
“I don't know – ”  
“That wasn't a question.” She closes the door, ending the discussion.   
When I first turned up on Alex's doorstep as a lost sixteen year old, swimming was the cornerstone of my day, the one routine event in my life. I was in lessons before I could walk and I've always felt so at home in the water that when I was ten I had serious concerns that I'd been born into the wrong species after reading an article about transgender children who were born in the wrong body. It's always my go to activity if I feel lost or out of touch with reality, so when Alex dragged me out of bed on my first freezing New York morning and took me to the nearest heated pool for some laps I knew everything was going to be ok. I still get that feeling every time the water takes my weight and I float along the surface for the first time – that all I was carrying is gone and it will be ok.

 


	8. Hazardous

**Sebastian**

New York is my city, whether I was born here is irrelevant. I love the noise and the people, I love that I feel so infinitely insignificant here, I love the bright lights and grimy shadows, I love being able to lose myself and disappear in it. Back in my apartment, going to my gym, meeting up with my non-actor friends – this is what grounds me, and after visiting LA I feel like I need it like a shower at the end of a sweaty day. A week ago Buzz turned me down but suggested another time and I left the ball in her court. I don't want to be impatient and I have no right to be frustrated but I'm eager to hear from her and it takes all of my will power to keep putting the phone down without initiating contact again. A week stretches in to two, and then three.   
“Maybe she googled me. Found out all there was to know and then all the mystery was gone. Maybe she read some of the not so subtle fan accounts on Tumblr.”  
“You gotta forget about her,” Mike says. “You enjoyed the hook up, now move on before she gets any further under your skin.”  
“You're probably right.”  
“I'm always right. You can't let her affect you this much, you don't even know her name.”  
When I haven't heard from Buzz in four weeks I decide it's a lost cause and chalk it down to a fun week that wasn't meant to last. I've called a couple of times, left voicemails, sent an appropriate amount of messages, and had absolutely no response. If I fucked up it would be nice to know, but at least I have more than enough to keep me occupied. People think it must be so easy for celebrities to date and hook up, but I'm in it for more than that. I need a connection and it's just as difficult for me to find a woman as it is the next guy of my age, if not more so because I'm away all the time for work and allegedly some of them find it difficult to approach me.   
Shadows is pretty close to my apartment and I know she frequents it regularly, which is why I've avoided it until this evening. I'm not keen on admitting it but if she is here every weekend picking up different guys I'd sooner not know, it gives me an uncomfortable weight in my chest. She's a grown woman who can do what she chooses – and from what I've seen she does it without apology – but I don't need it confirmed that I was just another fling that didn't mean anything. At risk of sounding completely sexist I feel like I’m the needy chick that won't leave the guy alone after he takes her home one night even though it was made perfectly clear to her that he only wanted sex. And now I'm the needy chick looking through the undulating group of people in a nightclub looking for heartbreak.   
She should be easy to spot with her pink hair but for the first few minutes I don't see her and as I'm lined up at the bar I almost feel relieved that she's not here – at least I don't have to see her with someone else. Then I look over to her regular table and see Levi, the bar manager, talking to a woman who bears a striking resemblance to Buzz... Her hair is now champagne coloured with streaks of electric blue filtering through from underneath, but she has the trademark tattoos and when she turns her eyes catch mine just the way they did the first time. To my surprise she smiles and waves me toward her.   
“This is a pleasant surprise, Sebastian,” she says as though she hasn't been avoiding me.  
“Yes it is. How have you been?”   
Levi and Buzz exchange nods before he makes his exit and she invites me to sit. She's alternating running her finger around the glass in front of her and tearing tiny strips off of a coaster, her hands visibly trembling despite her efforts to hide it. “Good, you?”  
“Mostly keeping out of trouble.” I don't want to be hurt that she's here looking to pick up again, and I don't want to be mad she said she wanted to be friends and then stopped answering my calls without explanation... but I can't help the sort of sick feeling in my stomach. “I love the hair colour.”  
“Thanks, it was time for a change.” She combs her fingers through it and flips the front back out of her eyes.   
“So, um... Have a great night, okay?” I turn and cross the short distance to the bar in quick strides, wondering if I should just leave and go home. I feel like I've earned a drink, though, so I wait in line and it's all déjà vu from there until the guy behind the bar tries to wave away my cash.   
“Buzz is paying,” he says.  
“Not this time, man.” I put the bill down in front of him. “Tonight I'm paying.”

From a table shrouded in darkness I pull out my phone and start going through emails to keep my eyes and brain occupied, but it only takes a couple of minutes for her scent to hit me. She stands beside the table and for the first time looks uneasy, choosing not to sit down.   
“I'm sorry,” she says. “I do shitty things, I don't always treat people right or consider consequences. That's why I don't get involved in anything, even friendships.”  
“That's a pretty sad way to live, Buzz.”  
“It works for me. Anyway, I just wanted you to know it wasn't anything you did or said. I just... I'm not a nice person to be around most of the time. When I said I had a great time with you I meant it, I did. I wish we could be friends or date or just fuck or whatever, but you're too good a man to be treated that way. Buying your drinks wasn't my way of trying to get you in to bed again, it was an apology for my behaviour.” She turns to walk away.  
“Buzz?”  
“Hm?” She turns that bright-eyed gaze on me and I have to look away.  
“That sounds like the biggest cop out and avoidance of responsibility I've ever heard. Like you can treat people however you like because you have an excuse and then buy them a drink to say sorry. Not that it matters, but I'm not buying it for a second. If you didn't want more than one night that's perfectly fine, you shouldn't say let's be friends or catch up later if you don't mean it.” I empty my glass and set it down on the table before I walk out. The whole way home I second-guess myself but I know I shouldn't, intellectually I've done the right thing but I feel like she's a tick and I've only got rid of the body while the head continues making me feel sick and burrowing its way into my soul.   
I'm still thinking about that night the following weekend, still wishing I'd gone back and accepted her apology. I haven't told anyone because even I can see how ridiculous it is – even if she did want me we're clearly not a good match and frankly I don't think her moral and ethical standards are anywhere near acceptable – but I can't stop thinking about her. Mostly I'm just hurt but there's desire there, too, I want to feel what I felt that night and wake up with her naked body draped over me again. I like to believe I'm a reasonable judge of character and my gut tells me she's not a terrible person, there has to be more to it than what she's telling me. Levi and Brennan at Shadows seem to think the world of her and she must surely have friends of some description.   
I should have deleted her number but I never seem to get around to it, so when I receive a message from her in the middle of the week and I see 'Buzz' on the screen I get a flutter in my stomach that I don't have the decency to be ashamed of.   
[Can we talk? I feel like I owe you a better explanation]  
[Sure. Just come over tonight if you want]  
If I didn't know she can handle her alcohol I'd be far more concerned that she turned up with a bottle of scotch, but as it's Buzz I just pull two tumblers from the cabinet and we sit out on the small balcony just off my living room.   
“I should have handled things better. I could have, and I didn't,” she says when I sit down. “My brain is wired differently to yours. To most people's. My instincts are always selfish and the first person I'm always looking out for is me. I recognise consequences but they don't make it to my conscious thoughts if they're not mine to worry about. When I'm in that mindset I see what I want and I get it by whatever means are necessary. I think I might have hurt your feelings and I wanted to apologise.”  
“But you don't actually feel remorseful,” I say in an even monotone.   
“I do now. I didn't at the time. That's not a cop-out, it's the truth. I'm trying to be honest with you.”  
No point in treading lightly now. “I going to assume you have some sort of diagnosed... something?”  
“Bipolar,” she says simply. “I take the meds and do all the right stuff but it's always there, there's always a high or low on the horizon. It's not an excuse, Sebastian. It's a reason for me to avoid getting close to people, because more than half the time I treat them like shit. I don't so much have an even keel as the edge of a knife and it never lasts long.”  
“So every time you get high – ”  
“The manic kind not the drug kind,” she clarifies. “Only made that mistake once.”  
“Every time... you go pick up a fling?”  
“No, I just...” This could be an entirely different woman, her awkwardness now is something I'd never have imagined in the Buzz I met. “I don't want relationships but sometimes I need some human contact. Not just sex but I guess it's nice to pretend for a day or so.” She shrugs. “No one has ever been so persistent before.”  
“But if you had someone who understood your illness, you could have that all of the time.”  
“Yeah, it doesn't work that way.” She takes a mouthful from her glass. “I've tried.”  
For a long time we sit in relative silence, a distant siren here and a roar of a jet there over the riff of traffic and car horns below us. We're both finishing our third drink before another word is spoken.  
“I should go,” she says. “It's getting late.”  
“You know if ever you just want some human contact, I won't mind if you give me a call.”  
She laughs softly. “Sebastian, you're worth more than that.”  
“I'm a single man who occasionally wants some action myself, and you can't tell me we weren't amazing together.”  
“We were dynamite, I'll give you that,” she says with a sparkle in her eyes.   
“I can do casual, Buzz. Give me a chance.” And I can, I might not be a one night stand kind of guy but I'm no chaste saint, either.   
“You realise you're bordering on begging me for sex?” She laughs as I slide down off my chair and kneel in front of her, kissing just above her knee on the hem of her skirt.   
“Please, Buzz. I'm desperately in love with your pussy. Please fuck me.” I use the most whiney, pathetic voice I can muster and it makes her laugh even harder, carding her fingers through my hair.   
“What are you gonna do if I give in? Stop begging?”  
“Immediately.” I grin and lick my lips. “I might stay down here on my knees, though.”  
She bites her lip and I push her skirt an inch higher, following it with my lips and leaving a trail of kisses all over both legs. When she lets them fall apart a fraction I trace my finger up the inside of her thigh while watching her face for permission, her lip still in a vise grip between her teeth while she watches me intently and breathes a little heavier.   
“Just say the word, Buzz.”  
“You win, Sebastian.”  
My hands gently part her legs and she leans back while I guide her skirt further until I can see the lace of her panties. With gentle nips of my teeth I make my way up the inside of each thigh and nuzzle at her mound, drawing a deep lungful of her womanly scent and pressing gently against her with my fingers. She gasps and slides her pelvis forward to the edge of the seat, my hands skimming her sides beneath her blouse while I nudge and lick at her through the thin lace. As I drag my fingers back down I catch the sides of her panties and guide them off over her shoes, leaving her cunt glistening and exposed. I kiss it tenderly and lick her tangy essence from my lips before gazing up at her.   
“I really am desperately in love with your pussy, by the way. It's magnificent.”  
She chuckles quietly.   
I'm not gonna lie, I love going down on a woman. The way her soft lips feel under my tongue, sucking the petals of her cunt into my mouth and tugging gently before letting them slip back with the smack of my lips, the taste of the arousal that seeps from her beautiful folds. It's divine. And this particularly gorgeous cunt with it's tiny patch of soft hair and smooth, bare lips has had me dreaming about spending hours with my face right here between her thighs, making her writhe and squirm and come, tipping her over the edge and unravelling her with my tongue over and over and over...   
I groan my appreciation against her and she moans in response, angling her hips to better work against my mouth. Holding her still with a splayed hand above her mound I lick long stripes between her folds and she threads her fingers into my hair with a long sigh.  
“Oh, god... Don't stop.”  
Working two fingers back and forth inside her I continue licking and sucking at the outside, coaxing her clit further as it swells enough for me to suck it back and forth between my lips and flutter my tongue over it. I can hear her breath coming in pants now and she keeps her hand in my hair while the other kneads her breast through her silk blouse, her eyes watching me intently and locking on to mine when I look up. Her hips buck against my face and then with a string of loud moans her walls grip my fingers, forcing her juices out onto my hand. With a satisfied hum I kiss her gently, circling around her clit and lapping up the remainder of her spilled juices while the climax ebbs away, leaving her face with a luminous glowing sheen of moisture, her cheeks flushed pink.   
Sitting back on my seat I give her a shit-eating grin as I suck her juices from my fingers and she recomposes herself, pulling her skirt back down far enough to cover both her sex and the damp spot on the seat.   
“So I really should get going,” she says. “It's late and I have work...” She sees the horror on my face and erupts into giggles as she stands and pulls me up. “Take me to bed, Sebastian.”  
She leads, stripping the remainder of her clothes off at the foot of the bed and climbing onto it on all fours, leaving me that delicious view while I hastily kick off my pants and toss my shirt on the floor. I unwrap a condom from the drawer and roll it down my aching cock, desperate to be inside her heat, and climb on to the bed behind her. Running my fingers down the phoenix on her back I position myself at her entrance and push inside with one thrust, drawing a heavy moan from her throat. With a swish of blue and blonde hair she throws her head back and arches into me, pushing back eager for more as I start to move in and out.   
“Fuck me, please.”  
I know she wants it faster, harder, rougher, the way she tries to set the pace, but I hold her hips firm and keep my thrusts even and smooth. God but I want to just pound into her for a hot minute and fill her with cum, but the next best thing is when she grips my dick with her orgasm. So I spread her legs a little wider and continue the slow torture until she reaches a hand down and rubs her clit in frantic circles, desperate to be flung over the edge again. When she's close I hold her shoulder with one hand, my fingers leaving possessive red marks in her skin as I slam hard inside her and her muscles make those glorious contractions on my swollen cock. I let her collapse down onto her stomach and withdraw while she recovers, her body stretching out cat-like as she groans contentedly. My lips make a path up her spine, the scent of her sweat and soap filling my head as I breathe her in.   
“Turn over,” I whisper against her ear, making goosebumps over her neck.   
This time I enter her slowly, her cunt still pulsating as it takes inch by inch of my cock and coats it in her essence. I watch the first few thrusts and then lie my body over her and hitch her legs around my waist so that our bodies graze together with the steady rhythm. Her back arches off the sheets, deliberately making her nipples brush against my chest until they’re as hard as the precious metal that stimulates them with every touch, and baring her perfect long neck for me to kiss and bite playfully. All the while my cock threatens to explode but I keep myself on edge as long as I can to make it last, watching the sumptuous rocking of her body beneath me while she emits those heavenly moans and sighs. Our mouths mash together and I feel her hand between us rubbing gently at her clit, her walls immediately firing off the spasms of impending orgasm, and as I feel her unravel I roughly break the kiss so I can watch her face as it washes over her. The gold flecks sparkle in her hazel eyes as they flutter open and she runs her fingertips gently over my shoulders, aftershocks still gripping and milking me as I lose myself in her and release with a long grunt that sounds embarrassingly like a wild animal.   
“Wow,” she whispers into my neck. “I... wow.”  
I chuckle and lie down beside her, pulling her sweaty body against mine.   
It’s a pleasant surprise to stir a few times during the night and still have the weight and warmth of her pressing in to me and when the peek of orange dawn wakes me properly I can scarcely believe she’s still sleeping soundly in my arms. I smile smugly to myself as though I have any control over it, like maybe I relaxed her so well I’ve cured her usual insomnia. A man can dream.


	9. Impact

**Buzz**

Wandering around the testing lab I comb my fingers through my hair, so thick it's still damp from the shower I shared with Sebastian. I'm still not 100% convinced it's a good idea, but the way I feel with him is so good I couldn't deny him any longer, my body was electrified just being in close proximity and I needed his skin on mine. It might well be a mistake but god knows I've made enough of them already it would be far from my worst. Derek appears beside me and begins taking notes on the progress of each product, I can feel the stress coming off him in waves at the amount of work I've given them this last couple of weeks. Things have settled the past few days so Alex was excited to find I'd spent another night with Sebastian, she's still hoping there's potential for a relationship there. I wish there was.

“There's a call for you, Buzz,” Sabine says. “About the Olympics job.”  
I stride quickly back to my office and close the door before picking up the phone. “Jubliee Edison.”  
“Miss Edison,” a deep voice says on the other end. “It's William Zaffis calling to discuss your proposal. We'd like to offer you the job and I'll send the contract through shortly.”  
It's a fight to keep my voice calm, we've been waiting for an answer on this job for a month and I didn't think we stood much chance against the technology giants. “Thank you, that's fantastic news. You won't regret it.”  
We go through some details before I hang up and share the news with Derek and Sabine. They did the bulk of the work on the proposal because it had to be rushed and even for a job that could set us up for a huge expansion I couldn't drag myself in to the office or make my brain work well enough to be useful. An emergency appointment with my psychiatrist and a short term change in meds was the only thing that got me in to the office at the last minute to take care of the finer details and come up with a bespoke solution no one else had thought of. It was also the catalyst for the manic episode I was in the throes of when I met Sebastian.

The gravity of it doesn't even begin to sink in until Sabine, Derek, and me are out to lunch with my lawyer, Ryan. I insisted upon shouting them lunch and giving them a well earned afternoon off while Ryan and I went over the contract, and he decided to join us for lunch to discuss his first impressions.  
“So the press release goes out late next week, do you have a PR firm?” he asks, flicking to the next page.  
“No... should I have?”  
“This is a big deal, Buzz. Very public, huge exposure for you. The world is expecting a big name like IBM to get this and people will want to know who the new player is.”  
“Oh.”  
“That's a good thing,” he says with a smile. “I'll email you some names.”  
Sabine looks like she might leap out of her seat.  
“Can you handle that for me?” I ask her.  
“Already on it,” she says excitedly.

As the front door of the restaurant opens the sun blasts in unhindered, reflected off the building opposite so that I'm temporarily blinded and it appears some sort of divine being is entering with their own light source. It reminds me of a scene I saw on Supernatural once. It isn't an angel, though. I know that thick brown hair, those pouty lips and thick, muscled thighs.  
Of all the restaurants in all the world...  
He smiles that killer smile when he sees me and I'm on my feet before he even reaches our table.  
“Buzz, hi.” As he leans down and kisses my cheek his cologne fills my head, his stubble brushing my skin reminding me so vividly of last night that I have to fight not to blush.  
“Hi, Sebastian. What are you doing here?”  
“Having lunch with my agent, what about you?”  
“Business lunch.” My companions are looking at me expectantly, each with a half smile cocking their lips. “Ah... this is Sabine, Derek, and Ryan. Guys, this is Sebastian.”  
Sabine has gone non-verbal and I have genuine concerns she might be having a stroke.  
“Champagne lunch? Nice.” He gestures to the bottle on the table.  
“We're celebrating a big contract. Can't tell you about it, yet.”  
“Call me later,” he says quietly, for my ears only. “Maybe we can continue the party.”  
“We'll see.”  
I deliberately keep my eyes forward as I sit down, refusing to watch him walk away.

“So it looks like they've accepted most of your pricing, although they've cut a couple of percent – ”  
“Hold on,” Sabine interrupts, holding up a hand. “Are we not going to talk about what just happened?”  
“No, we're not.” I wave Ryan to carry on, but she won't be silenced.  
“Do you know who he is? That's Sebastian Stan!”  
_So that's his surname._ “And?”  
“The actor? Buzz, he's a big deal. And you're... what are you doing with him? How do you know each other?”  
“We're just acquaintances, that's all. We've met at the same bar a couple of times. We need to move on.”  
“This conversation is not over!” she hisses across the table as Ryan resumes his report.  
Apparently it is, I just don't give her the opportunity to bring it up again. For today at least.

Sabine and Derek have already left when Sebastian struts past again, holding his hand to his ear and mouthing 'call me' as he does. I return his smile and then push it from my mind to focus on the task at hand, working through the contract with Ryan. By the time we're done I'm exhilarated at the prospect of starting our first big project and on the way home I'm already allocating resources and planning out each stage. As soon as I'm in the door I dump my satchel and pull my laptop out to begin documenting all of the thoughts in my head. My fingers fly frantically over the keys, typing as fast as my brain can think and getting everything down before it escapes the circuit and is lost forever. Some ideas are listed with no further detail than ‘allocate to Derek’ or ‘Sabine to research’, others I flurry out a paragraph of enough information to get me restarted later before moving on to the next thing. It’s early evening before I pause and stretch, standing out of the bar stool to get a glass of water and try to rub the cloudy tiredness from my eyes. At least now I know I’ve saved all of my thoughts – I have a feeling tomorrow will be one of those days where thinking becomes difficult if not impossible.  
All of my thoughts, that is, except for one – the one I'm trying to ignore. It's still there, occupying a measly 1% of my brain processing capacity, just enough to niggle at me and drive me slowly insane – Google him. Find out who Sebastian Stan is, according to the internet.

A strip of images and a page of text results are on my screen before I can stop myself.

The man who I thought was no big deal turns out to have quite the internet presence, it's like a bomb that keeps going off with new IMDb entries, an informative and thoroughly sourced Wikipedia page, a popular Instagram account, and a string of famous and beautiful ex-girlfriends. I close the laptop and curse the lack of alcohol in my apartment, settling instead for a herbal tea. And then I knock on Alex's door.  
“You ever heard of this guy?” I ask when she opens it, holding my laptop screen toward her.  
“Oh yeah, he was in Gossip Girl.”  
“That's... that's Sebastian, Alex. My... the Sebastian I've been sleeping with.”  
“Are you kidding me?”  
“No. And he met Sabine and Derek today at lunch. We got the Olympics contract and I took them out to celebrate.”  
“Wait, slow down.” She holds a hand up and a huge smile spreads across her face. “You got the Olympics job? That's amazing, Buzz. You should be proud.”  
“Sabine and Derek did all the work.”  
“On the proposal, perhaps. But you built the capability.”  
“That's true. Ryan says I need to hire someone to do PR for us, that there'll be a lot of media coverage.” I rub at my forehead as though the idea is physically painful.  
“That worries you, huh?”  
“Fucking up in public worries me. Right now I'm just some chick named Buzz who doesn't get a second glance. Sebastian is the first man who's ever insisted on seeing me again, to everyone else I'm just a one night stand and it's easier that way. I do stupid, stupid, stupid shit, Alex. Reckless stuff. If my personal fuck-ups were public knowledge no one in their right mind would give us work.”  
“Are we worried about hurting Sebastian right now or _Lunar_?” She smirks a little, the bitch. She knows he's on my mind more than I'd like.  
“ _Lunar._ I was just saying my reputation would include whore.”

Alex sighs and ushers me into her apartment and onto the couch, offering me a wine glass and the bottle she's already opened. She stops pouring at a third of a glass, ignoring the frown on my face.  
“You have contingencies for this. No decisions without a second sign-off, I check in with you regularly if you're not home, you haven't hurt yourself in years. You're doing ok, sweetheart. Actually you're doing really fucking amazing.”  
“Because I have a safety net. A web of support people who check up on me and know where I am and what I'm doing every hour of the day. So many meds I can barely keep track of them myself and can't be trusted with some of them. I'm a grown up who's as needy as a fucking toddler.”  
“You're a successful business woman and a functioning adult who lives with bipolar and manages it as best she can.”  
Tears are prickling my eyes and I can feel 'it' dragging over me like a heavy blanket. Sometimes the depression just buries me like a ton of bricks dropped from a height when I least expect it, but sometimes it's triggered by an event or a train of thought. Or a pity party like this one, where a child-like version of me is all dressed up in her frilly dress and shiny shoes, a conical party hat atop her pretty hair while she stomps her feet and screams 'I don't wanna' over and over through her tears. What I wouldn't give for just a few months – weeks, even – of equilibrium and regular old ups and downs, a vacation from the crazy squirrel and the looming hell hound.  
“I fucking hate this, Alex.”  
“I know, sweetie.” She puts her arms around me and hugs me tight. “I know.”

Somewhere between sobbing and turning completely numb I admit it to her. “I really liked him.”  
“Sebastian?”  
I nod. “He's a good guy. A rare one, I think.”  
“So I've heard. Maybe...” She cuts off at the shake of my head. “He's worth keeping as a friend.”  
“I'll only hurt him.”  
She sighs heavily, obviously wanting to discuss it further but she knows well enough that now isn't the time. “Come on, I think you should call it a night.”

There's only ever been one person in my life like Alex. She never takes my shit and if she's afraid of me hurting myself again it never shows. This is never more evident than her forcing me out of the house to go swimming every goddam day when she knows I need it most – the woman literally makes me swim when all I really want to do is drown. All manner of therapists have told me I should exercise daily and it's particularly important when I'm depressed, apparently the endorphins will work some sort of magic where all else fails and I'll miraculously feel better. I'm sure my body benefits from it and it might have some effect on the length of the episodes but when I'm out and showered all I'm thinking about is getting back home, to the place I don't have to pretend to be okay. Gliding along the top of the water my arms and legs ache as I count strokes and breaths, turn and push off for another lap, watch the black line as it wiggles through the disturbed water. Just keep swimming. Keep swimming until the time is done and I can go home. Keep swimming until the fog lifts and I can breathe again.

The same chair I sit in when I can't sleep is the one I curl up in with a hot mug of coffee upon my return, watching the grey morning grow lighter with the rise of the sun as the noise of people beginning their day gets louder. Some days I only move from this spot to use the toilet – and only then begrudgingly, when I can't physically hold it any longer – and I feel like today will be one of those days. I might nap for a while, rest my eyes without actually falling asleep, or just watch the world turn, but there's nothing occupying my thoughts except dismal, hopeless, sadness. I hate that, I hate the way it sounds and I hate the fact that intellectually I am so goddam smart I can build a company from scratch and write a simple piece of software in a few minutes flat but I can't motivate myself out of a chair to eat something when the chemicals are out of whack in my big smarty-pants brain. It's the same self-hatred I used to feel at school when I wanted to do well but I just... couldn't. I could do most of the work with my eyes closed, especially the maths and sciences parts, but if something was asked of me when I wasn't in the right frame of mind I just didn't care enough to do it. That and I missed so much school that when I was there it was such a big deal I never wanted to go back. Mom and dad were devastated when they found out I'd been leaving the house just long enough for them both to go to work and then spending the day in my room and it wasn't long before that safe space was taken away from me and I had nowhere to go, with the rug pulled out from under me I rapidly plummeted into a depression requiring my first hospitalisation.

“Have you eaten today?” Alex asks as soon as she's home from work. She moves around my apartment turning on lamps, bathing the rooms in dim light as the sun sinks behind the city.  
“No,” I answer softly. Instinct tells me to lie and say yes so she'll leave me alone but Alex knows me better than that, she wouldn't believe me.  
“If I bring you something will you eat it?”  
I shake my head. “I'm not hungry.”  
This is why I can be honest with her and I always have. There's no judgement, she's not going to nag or beg me to eat – she knows better. “Okay,” she says simply, giving me a gentle squeeze and kissing the top of my head. “You know where I am.”  
She'll check in at least another twice before morning, either physically peeking in or with a text like _'Hanging in there?'_ or _'Do you need anything?'_. I set my phone to do not disturb unless it's Alex and turn on the television on the bedroom wall, flicking through Netflix for something to ignore while I doze in and out. It will play half a season of something before asking if I'm still there and god willing I'll be asleep by then and the inactivity will shut off the tv.

The following day I still swim, but upon my return I go back to bed, where I stay until Alex wakes me the next day. The next one is the same, and the next, and another two after that.  
“Do I need to call the doctor?” she says one morning before heading off to work.  
“No. Just want to sleep.”  
If she's thinking that I need to wash my hair, change my clothes, brush my teeth, and perhaps eat something that isn't a muesli bar, she doesn't say it. Her worried but matter-of-fact voice will ask the same question every day now until I either say yes or show some sign of improvement.

I'm beginning to wonder if giving Sebastian my number was such a good idea. The only people that regularly use it are Sabine and Alex and they know that I communicate best through text, they know I often don't answer calls and I don't have to feel any guilt when I let it ring out. The missed calls and texts piling up from Sebastian are making me anxious and yet when it rings I just can't bring myself to answer, I don't have the energy to talk to anyone. That night I make a note in my journal to set up my phone to auto-dismiss the notifications from everyone but Sabine and Alex with a function to turn it on and off. A brain that functions in a straight line would see that the easier option is to just respond with 'I'll call you when I'm ready' or something similar, and on an intellectual level I understand that my reasoning isn't always the same as other people's, but I just don't think that way.

Not today, at least.

 


	10. Judiciary

## Sebastian

The maitre'd is pointing me toward my table but I've been momentarily distracted by blue hair and a joyful smile, a glass of champagne touching plump pink lips. Buzz is clearly a little uncomfortable with her worlds colliding so I keep our interaction brief before moving on, hoping she'll call me later so I can help her celebrate whatever it is she can't tell me about. By the time I leave she and her lunch companions are still going through paperwork and animatedly discussing something important, and I've got an armful of scripts and a full calendar for next month.

She doesn't call, and because I promised to be casual I refrain from calling or texting her and instead have dinner with friends. Nothing the next day, either, so I send a congratulatory text and hope it prompts a response. It doesn't, nor does the next, or the next. After three days I give in and call but she doesn't answer and although I think the voicemail I left was very charming with just the right amount of innuendo and a sprinkle of flirtation, she doesn't respond to that, either.

I should leave it. I know I should, but I'm having genuine concerns for her welfare, now. I know she has bipolar and I don't know how bad it gets, what if she's suicidal and I could help? I've had that feeling where you're alone and feel like no one understands, what if she just needs to know I'm here and she's waiting for me to call again?  
“Hello?” a voice answers. It's higher than Buzz's voice, not as rich. I pull the phone away and check the screen to be sure I selected the right number. “Hello?” she says again.  
“Uh, hi... I'm looking for Buzz.”  
“She's not here right now, but I can take a message. Can I ask how you got my number?”  
“Isn't this her number?” I ask, completely confused.  
“Oh, hold on...” she pauses in silence for a few seconds and laughs. “Sorry, I have her phone. I must have picked it up by accident this morning. So um, who are you?”  
“Sebastian.”  
“Oh, god. I'm Alex, her cousin. I'll be sure to let her know you called, but please know that she's not really up to speaking to anyone at the moment.”  
My heart leaps into my throat. “Did something happen? Is she okay?”  
“She will be. Look, Sebastian, you seem like an amazing guy and she's told me a lot about you, but she's not likely to call you back anytime soon. Unfortunately that's just how it works for her and it's probably best if you just move on.”  
“I don't know if this is appropriate but I can't stop thinking about her, Alex. So if there is any chance in the world she might feel the same way I'm willing to hold on a bit longer.”  
“Like I said, you really seem like a great guy. If nothing else she could really use a friend but you're gonna have to live with everything on her terms. If you keep pushing she'll just walk away, you'll have to wait and let her come to you.”  
“I can do that. You think you can put in a good word for me?”  
“Did Sebastian Stan just ask me to put in a good word for him?”  
“Wait... does she know...” I feel like a monumental dick whenever I ask this. “Does she know who I am?”  
“Kind of, yeah.”  
“Shit,” I hiss under my breath.   
“You understand this might be an uphill battle, she actively avoids having a public life.”  
“I do understand, and I can be patient. I just needed to know she was okay.”  
“She's...” I hear her draw a shuddering breath and my chest constricts. “She will be. Give her some time.”  
“If there's anything I can do can you let me know? Anything at all.”  
“I will, you have my word. I'll let her know you called.”  
“Thanks, Alex.”

The conversation with Alex doesn't ease any of my concerns, in fact it heightens them. Buzz didn't mention her lows when we talked, and I didn't ask, but if she's not up to phone calls then they might be a lot worse than I guessed. I have to ask myself if I'm really cut out for this, if I can be as good for her as I'm claiming. Do I really want to toss myself down this rabbit hole not knowing how deep it goes?  
My head says absolutely not, that putting her in my life might make her illness worse and I can't always be there for her when I'm travelling all over the world for work. But my gut says maybe it will be worth it. And my heart isn't allowed to be involved, yet. It can't be, I don't even know her name.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When I'm training hard and cut out ice cream and pizza I usually spend the first few days going crazy with cravings for it before it gradually tapers off, but I never forget how good it tastes. I've heard some people say when they give up something and then have it again after a while it isn't as good as they imagined, but I can't say I've ever had that experience, maybe my imagination isn't very good. Either way, when I haven't heard from Buzz in three weeks I'd expect the same experience, to not miss her or think about her as much as time wore on, but the opposite is true. I keep getting my hopes up when the phone rings, or hope I might bump in to her on the street, I'm probably a week short of going back to _Shadows_ or the restaurant I last saw her in the vain hope she'll magically appear, so spending the better part of a month away in Los Angeles and then London is a relief for my sanity. It doesn't reduce the craving for her, though. I keep to myself in L.A., two weeks of reshoots is just enough time to get my head comfortably back into a character and then leave him behind again, it goes so fast I've barely made a start on the pile of scripts I seem to be carrying around everywhere.

London is a different story, though. I have friends here I don't see all that often so although I have a couple of auditions and meetings booked in the rest is purely for fun. I'm out with a group of friends enjoying the end of summer when I hear a familiar voice wrap her thick British accent around my name.   
“Sebastian, it's been a while.”  
“Julia, hi.” I turn to kiss her cheek and hold her in a familiar hug. “How are you?”   
“Better for seeing you.” She flicks her fiery red hair back over her shoulder and drapes her tall waif figure over the back of my chair. “How long are you in town?”  
Julia and I have been close friends since making our debut together on Broadway eight years ago. The 'with benefits' upgrade happened a few years later after we'd both had messy breakups, but that doesn't mean we always hook up when we're in the same city – we have a mutual respect that runs far deeper than that. According to the tabloids we're in some sort of long distance on and off relationship and honestly it works in both of our favours to not bother correcting them.  
“A few days. Can we catch up before I leave?”  
“Only if you can do it tonight, I'm off to Europe tomorrow.”  
“How about you come and get me when you're ready to go home, I'll join you.”

By the time she does I'm about one drink beyond tipsy and we make the short stroll to her apartment arm in arm.  
“You've been a busy boy,” she says.   
“Yeah.” I sigh, a little heavier than I intended. “Can't stop, though. You know how it is.”  
“I do. All work and no play.”  
“Mm,” I squeak and tilt my head. “There's been a bit of play, too.”  
“Ooh, does Sebby have a woman?”  
“Not exactly have, but... maybe. I might in the future.”  
“Anyone I'd know?”  
“No, actually.”  
“Low profile is sometimes a good choice,” she says with a laugh, elbowing me playfully in the ribs.

As soon as we're inside she opens the fridge and hands me a beer. “So tell me all about her?”  
This is what I love about Julia, there's no disappointment that we won't be having sex tonight or anything but happiness for me. Something holds me back, though. Maybe I don't want to jinx it by saying it out loud, perhaps it's because I don't know her name, but for the first time since we've known each other I don't feel like sharing this with Julia.   
“She's got this... enigma about her,” I say simply, taking a long pull of beer.   
Julia waits for more but when she doesn't get it she just smiles and moves on. “Which jobs were you here for?”  
And so begin hours of reminiscing and catching up, talking about politics and meaningless shit and everything in between. We end up on the terrace enjoying the warm summer breeze with about five beers more than I should have had and a few cigarettes. One thing I'll say about playing a few roles now where I've smoked on screen is that I seem to be capable of smoking socially now without completely taking it back up again. Admittedly even the herbal prop cigarettes we use now make me crave the habit of it but I find it easy now to go out for a night like this and not end up buying a packet the next morning because I'm hooked again. Maybe that's an age thing, or I’ve developed exceptional willpower. Odd that I can’t give up Buzz so easily, though.

I don't very often feel my age – even less often do I act it – but when I'm woken by my phone ringing deafeningly close to my ear I feel it with nauseating force. Trying to answer it before I've got my bearings is a mistake that causes me to roll off the couch onto the floor with a heavy grunt.  
“Fuck... hello?”  
There's quiet laughter on the other end. “Are you okay? It's Buzz.”  
I clear my throat and try to make some moisture happen in my mouth, which feels like I licked an ashtray. “Yeah, I... what time is it?”  
“It's just before four here, so... almost nine there. Sorry, I thought you'd be awake.”  
“I was,” I lie. “Is everything okay?”  
“Yeah, I just... well I was awake and thought I'd return your call. The one I should have returned a month ago. I figured you would have deleted my number by now but when I got your text last night...”  
 _Shit, I texted her last night?_ An attempt to sit up results in my body aching like that of an eighty year old so I stay on the floor and try to focus. “Are you feeling any better?”  
“I am. How much did Alex tell you?”  
“Not much. I was a little worried about you, though.”  
“You don't need to. When are you back?”  
“Next week. Can I see you?”  
“We can get coffee or something, I might not have time for anything else. Work is crazy, we just picked up a huge contract.”  
“Okay.” I pause and scrub a hand through my hair. “Buzz, I'd really like for us to be more than just acquantainces or the occasional fuck. I'm not insisting on a relationship or anything, I just want to get to know you.”  
“I assure you you'd be entirely underwhelmed. I have to go, give me a call when you're back and maybe we can have coffee.”

Julia wanders out while I'm rubbing at my temples, woken by my phone ringing. “Was that her?” she asks with a smile.   
“Yes, it was. Can I ask your advice? Would that be weird?”  
“I think it's fine as long as you're okay about it. I'm not exactly an expert, though.”  
“I know, but you're a woman, so... How do I win her over? I know she feels something, but she's holding back and saying she doesn't do relationships.”  
She starts making coffee while considering her answer, then turns abruptly to face me. “You don't,” she says simply. “She isn't a prize.”  
“No, but – ”  
“Listen to me.” She slides a hot mug of coffee across the bench at me and clears her throat. “Nothing she says or does makes her owe you anything. Don't go in to this thinking you'll just fuck her and spend the night every time she calls because one day she'll give in, or when the time comes she does want to settle down you'll be her first choice. There's no entitlement here, you don't get special treatment for being treated like shit for the longest. I assume if you feel so strongly about her and think she's worth the effort then she must be, because you have a good heart and good judgement, but if you're going to say ‘let's be friends’ then you gotta mean it, not believe it's a means to an end. Even if she's in love with you, she doesn't have to act upon it and you have no right to demand she does. You can't play games with her, this isn't about playing hard to get. If you're going to be friends do it sincerely or walk away.”  
I take a few moments to let her words sink in to my pounding head.  
“You couldn't have just said 'she'll come around if you keep being your charming self'?” I ask drily.  
“Sorry, you asked for advice not a spoonful of sugar. And the reality might be that you're not the guy for her. I hope you are, though, she sounds pretty special.”  
“I think she is, and I've barely scratched the surface.”  
“Are you prepared to take whatever she'll give you, even if that means you never get more than friendship?”  
“For the foreseeable future, yes. To the point where it's no longer healthy for me, no.”  
“Good.”

Back in New York I feel like I've taken a deep breath and properly filled my lungs for the first time, even though Karen has me attending the opening of every film and envelope in the city and I'm spending half my life at the gym with Don. I won't even pretend I don't enjoy it, he makes it far from boring, and as an added bonus it keeps my mind occupied. I'd planned to call Buzz as soon as I was home, in fact I was going to do it from the airport while I waited for my luggage, but something – call it self-preservation, call it protecting someone I barely know, or perhaps just good old fear of commitment – held me back. Everything Julia said sunk in, but one part in particular has thrown up giant orange 'proceed with caution' neon sign. Actually, in the weeks since I left London this particular thought has put up barriers with flashing lights, erected a concrete roadblock, and dug up the road itself. _You might not be the guy for her._

Every day I bring up her number, and then I set the phone back down again. It's been two months and I can't shake the idea that I might do her more harm than good. My intentions might be pure, but I can't risk leaving either of us worse off than when we started. Sure I've had my own brushes with anxiety and depression but this is something entirely out of my league. The safest thing for both of us would be for me to just leave it and walk away, especially since she seems to have already done exactly that.

There's just that last part of me that isn't ready to give up on it, and until it is I'll keep picking up the phone.

 


	11. Kaleidoscope

** Buzz **

“I want independence.”  
Erica's confusion barely registers on her well-educated, thoroughly-practised face, but I see a flash of it in her eyes because she's been my therapist for so long that I've learned to decipher even the most unreadable of reactions.   
“Buzz, you run your own company, you live alone, you manage your illness better than the vast majority of my patients. I don't think you depend on anyone excessively. Would you care to explain?”  
“I pay people to run the company, I just own it. I can't make decisions without their sign-off because I can't be trusted when I'm high and I don't even turn up when I'm low. I live beside Alex, who feeds me when I refuse to feed myself and forces me out of bed when I need it most. She also keeps my meds under lock and key because I can't be trusted with anything I can overdose on when I'm depressed. She was so concerned a few months ago she took the knives from my knife block.”  
Erica smiles, switching easily from professional to friend. “Oh dear. How long before you noticed?”  
She knows well enough that I barely use my kitchen when I'm depressed. “About ten days.”  
“It sounds like we need to schedule a session with Alex, she clearly has some concerns that need to be addressed.”  
“I want her to get married and have babies and get on with her life, not worry about me all of the time. That's what I'm talking about when I say independence.”  
“There's no shame in having someone looking out for you, Buzz. I see where you're coming from, though. Was there something that set this off?”  
I know better than to keep anything from her. “Yeah. I met a guy. One who made me think long term.”  
“Wow. That's huge.”  
“Oh, I pushed him away quite forcefully. But it made me consider the strain I put on anyone who gets close to me. One day I might want that. Or something might happen to Alex.”  
“Tell me about the guy?”  
“Why?” I bristle.  
Her eyes frown but her mouth is curled very slightly. “Because you've never talked about one before.”  
“Yeah, I did,” I argue. “The one that gave me crabs. We talked about him for a while, you kept telling me I couldn’t name and shame him on Twitter.”  
“C'mon, Buzz.”  
“I met him at _Shadows_ and he just... I don't know. He affected me. He was kind and he didn't just want me for one night. When I went to leave in the morning I found I didn't want to.”  
“You must have been quite thrown by that.”  
“I was. You know me, that's never happened. And now he wants to get to know me I feel like if he does he'll just...” I trail off and take a mouthful of water from the bottle in front of me.   
“He'll change his mind?” she offers.  
I nod. “No one wants that kind of responsibility, I've heard it all before. People like me are too much hard work.”  
“What I'm hearing is almost like you want to be independent so you present a better picture.”  
“No, it's not just that. We just got a huge contract as well. It made me wonder if this is how it's gonna be for the rest of my life, or can I learn to manage it better?”  
“You can only try. People do. You're certainly not a lost cause. But would you feel this way if you were physically disabled in some way? If sometimes your spouse would have to help you navigate daily life would that stop you from pursuing a relationship? Like it or not, this is an illness. It isn't an excuse for anything you do but it is out of your control and I think you believe no one will accept that.”  
“Why should they? I treat people like shit and sometimes want to kill myself because I'm sick?”  
“Like I said, doesn't excuse your behaviours but it takes some of the motive out of your hands.”  
“Maybe. Also he's famous. Like both Alex and Sabine immediately knew who he was when I said his name. He's an actor.”  
“That's going to complicate things.”  
“You think I shouldn't bother?”  
“Not at all. I think he wants to get to know you and there's no harm in that. If you're up front with him he knows what he's getting in to.” She writes a few notes on the pad on her lap and then lifts her gaze back to me. “Right, we have a long term goal of complete independence, or as close as possible. Let's work out what that looks like and how we make it happen.”

I don't always feel better after seeing Erica. Some days she's attempting to pull me out of a severe depressive episode, sometimes she's giving me tough love when I need meds to bring me down before I do something dangerous, but days like today when I'm fairly stable and I leave with a plan of attack to work on specific things I do feel positive. Like the light at the end of the tunnel is probably still a train, but I have enough dynamite to blow it up before it runs me over. I did say _fairly_ stable. That evening after a good talk with Alex I email Erica to make an appointment for us both and then scroll through to Sebastian's number.   
_I'm doing this for me,_ I remind myself as I press the phone icon to dial. _I'm not getting better for him, and if he's moved on I can't blame him._  
And he doesn't answer, after a few rings it goes to his voicemail. “You've got me. If you're blocking your number, leave it after the beep. Otherwise just wait a bit and I'll call you back.”  
I hang up and leave it up to fate. If he hasn't deleted my number I guess he'll call back.

I don't know why Alex likes to jinx my mental health with statements like 'you've been really balanced for a while now' when it's been longer than usual between episodes, but she does, and no amount of knocking, banging, or tapping on wood of any variety can stop the inevitable result. She did exactly that on the way home from our joint appointment with Erica a few days ago.  
“You're bouncing,” she says as she hands me my morning meds. We haven't yet worked out another solution for that, I'm not sure I'm ready to take back complete responsibility. She keeps the blister packs except for two of each which I keep for emergencies, one in my purse and one in my bathroom cabinet. The worst harm I could cause myself even if I took them all at once would be some nasty vomiting and a good long nap. I don't know where she keeps the key, only Alex and Hugh do and I know they move it around regularly. I don't want to know.   
“Because you had to open your mouth.” I toss them back and take a mouthful of juice, opening my mouth for her out of habit even though she’s never actually checked. From the moment I invaded her apartment she’s trusted me that much, which is more than I can say for anyone else I’ve been this close to.   
“Sorry,” she says simply. “I just wanted to congratulate you, I think it was your work with Erica that helped.”  
“I think it was the drugs, but if you say so. Maybe you're right. I'll check in later, I have to get to work.”

The Olympics project is going so smoothly it's almost unnerving and I'm thoroughly enjoying the challenge it brings. I make it until just after nine before I have to get out and move around for a bit, heading out into the weak sun to get coffee from down the street. I tug my coat tighter around my chest as I wait in line.  
“Buzz?” I hear from behind. I don't need to turn to know who's there, his voice immediately made me feel ten degrees warmer on the inside.  
“Hi, Sebastian.”  
His hair is longer and a thick beard covers his jaw, and either he's wearing more than one coat or he's been working out a lot since I saw him last. The smile is the same, though, just like his sparkling blue eyes. “How are you?” he asks.  
I'm interrupted by the barista to take my order, and then Sebastian gives his. Honestly I'm always relieved when I don't have to answer that question, there just never seems an appropriate short answer.  
“Do you have a few minutes?” he asks while we wait.  
“Yeah, I do. What's up?”  
“I wanted to apologise for not calling you back the other day. I waited so long and I wanted to call you and then... I don't know. I figured you'd given up on me because you knew who I was.”  
“Not at all, I shouldn't have made you wait. All of this is kind of foreign to me.”  
“I meant what I said. I'd really like to get to know you, even if you only want to be friends. And if that's your choice I will go into it expecting nothing more.”  
“Okay, I’d like that. I'm really not that exciting, though. I think you'll just find out why I don't have a lot of friends.”  
“Tomorrow night? We can go out or just have a drink at mine?”  
“Choose somewhere awesome for dinner.”  
“Done.”

By early afternoon I'm crawling out of my skin, so I call one of the men in my life who never fails to scratch my itch. “Jez, can you squeeze me in today?”  
“That depends,” he says warily. “What for?”  
“I want to start the one on my hip.”  
“You got Alex's approval?”  
“I will have.”  
“Okay, come by in an hour.”  
I text Alex on the way there. _Getting a new tat today, okay? The one on my hip. With Jez.  
OK xxx_

“Haven't seen you in ages, Buzz. What d'ya think?” Jez holds up a mermaid with pink hair and a shimmering purple and blue tail, her top half naked.  
“I fucking love it. You're a genuis.”  
“Strip and get up here, then,” he says, patting the table. “And get comfy, you're gonna be here the rest of the afternoon.”  
I've never been one to self harm by cutting or anything like that but I have experimented with it and I understand the appeal, the rush of endorphins that comes with the pain. To an extent I get it from the piercing needle and other avenues but by far the best is the tattoo gun. As soon as that buzz starts up my body begins to hum and I can feel my pulse quicken, arousing all of my senses in the same butterfly-inducing physical excitement other people get from rollercoasters or skydiving. Jez doesn't bother stencilling on me any more and he only does with other clients by way of reassurance or giving them a last chance to chicken out. All of his work on me has been freehand and I love being completely at his mercy, nothing more than a canvas for someone else's art.

When he’s finished I stand and admire it in the mirror while he takes some photos, she starts right at the top of my hip bone and her tail finishes on the outside of my thigh.   
“God, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”  
“You know what to do, right?”  
“Yes.” I let my dress fall back down to my ankles after he’s taped the clear film on top. “No swimming, try not to sleep on that side or let anything rub on it, use the ointment,” I rattle off.   
“Come back in a week so I can check it.”

Sebastian wanted to pick me up from my apartment so I compromised and met him a couple of blocks away.  
“I know you think it's weird, you're just going to have to bear with me.”  
“It's fine, really,” he says, looking like it's anything but. “You hungry?”  
“Yep.”  
“Good.”  
He takes me to an amazing burger joint near his place – simple and filling with thick chips and juicy burgers loaded with cheese and tangy mustard. “What were you like as a kid?” he asks as he licks sauce from his finger.  
I take a moment to think. “I don't know. Moody, I guess. Generally happy, but mom says I was always in my own head, keeping to myself as much as I could at home. At school when I was young I had heaps of friends, I was sort of the ring leader when it came to mischief and that made me popular.”  
“Favourite subject?”  
“Math. It just came naturally to me.” I lift my glass and my hand shakes so much the liquid almost spills over the side. Sebastian eyes me and cocks his head, obviously wrestling with a question.  
“If I ask about that will you tell me?”  
“About the tremors?” I ask, and he nods. I toy with my knife for a few seconds before answering. “It's a side effect from the Lithium. Sometimes it affects my speech as well.”  
That isn't the whole story but it's not a lie, either. Acute toxicity just isn't polite dinner conversation and he seems to accept my rather broad explanation so I leave it at that.  
“It must be really hard. I don't want to be patronising or whatever but it must make everything more difficult. Work. Relationships?”  
I shrug. “Yes and no. I run a successful company, I think my life is pretty good.”  
“I wasn't suggesting it isn't, just that you said you can't have relationships and don't have a lot of friends before. I'm asking because my experience is the opposite, my friends and family are the most important thing in my life. I'm curious, that's all.”  
Only then I realise how defensive I must sound, I'm so used to having my guard up. “Sorry. It does make it difficult, I've just learned to live without it. Family is a different concept for me, Alex is the only family I'm close to. I hardly speak to my parents or my brother.”  
“Did something happen?”  
“They gave up on me.” I say simply. “I was hospitalised and they wanted to leave me there. The second I could get out of that loony bin I came here and Alex took me in.”  
“Fuck, that's awful.”  
“It was the best thing I could have done, though. I have a love hate relationship with New York but I don't think I'd have been successful anywhere else.” I finish off the rest of my beer. “So what's it like working with Marvel?”  
He eyes me with a knowing smirk but goes along with my swift change of subject. “It's been great for my career.”  
“But?”  
“I struggle a bit with the public side of it. It's kind of weird having people know all this stuff about you. Like complete strangers coming up to me in the street and presenting me with things I've mentioned I liked. It's amazing and truly flattering but it's also disconcerting that they know all that stuff, and I kind of think like, surely you have something better to do than put that much thought into – ” he gestures up and down his body with a shrug and a frown “ – me?”

I haven't met a lot of celebrities or actors but Sebastian just isn't what I would have expected. He's quite reserved for a start, and seems to avoid talking about himself unless it's to tell a story about his family. However hard I try I keep getting drawn in to his soft voice, leaning in and willing him to keep talking.  
“You have any other plans this evening, Buzz?”  
I smirk. “Nope. You?”  
“Nothing.”  
My mind is beginning to race and by the time I start the next beer I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. Like a junkie eyeing her next fix my brain tries to rationalise sleeping with him again, minimise the harm it could cause. I know he's a grown man who can handle himself and he's told me he understands I can't commit to anything but I don't want to hurt him and somehow I already know I'd like to keep him in my life.   
“I have to go,” I say abruptly.   
Sebastian frowns. “Okay...” he draws a long breath and then pulls from his beer, setting it calmly on the table and spinning it on the coaster with his fingertips. “I won’t stop you, but can you tell me what just happened?”  
“Sebastian, I am on the verge of not caring so I’ll be blunt.” I lower my voice and lean closer. “I like you. You’re good company. My entire body is screaming at me to just give in and fuck you and I’m fighting it because I don’t want to hurt you and push you away. So please, I need to go.” Downing the rest of my drink I stand up and sift through my purse for some cash but he slowly closes his hand over mine. Too slowly. Irritatingly so.   
“Wait. Sit down and give me five more minutes.”  
“Sebastian...”  
“No sex. Five minutes.”  
I slump back into the leather bench seat. “Go.”  
“What else can we do to relieve it? Is there another way that doesn’t involve... you know.”  
“Sure.” I draw breath and then rapid-fire ideas at him, growing increasingly frustrated because I just need to move. Now. “We can shop, but I don’t have access to more than two grand without Alex’s permission. I could get another tat but she won’t approve that either and Jez only saw me yesterday. I might be able to talk him into a piercing if he isn’t in the middle of putting his children to bed. I can work, but I need something to take the edge off first so I can sit still long enough, so there’s drugs and I can get my hands on whatever you feel like coke or weed or any kind of opiate you can name both the prescription and home-made varieties you probably don’t want to go with ex though because I won’t be able to keep my hands off you and you promised no sex so I’d end up fucking someone else and demanding you watch so that you learn not to do this to me again. I could get drunk but that usually ends in vomit and I metabolise it so quickly that I’m good to go again as soon as my stomach is empty, I could go home and masturbate... tha- that’s not a bad idea... last time I put it on the internet it got heaps of hits but I for-forgot I did that until Hugh saw it and told Alex, which is hilarious for someone who keeps her identity and private life hidden so I don’t ruin the reputation of my company, I disconnected the webcam on my laptop after that which is pointless really because I have every electronic device known to man and ev-every single one has a cam-camera. That was su-such a rush – ”  
“Buzz!” He’s kneeling in front of me and has a hand on each shoulder, squeezing painfully hard. Until he yelled I’d completely zoned out and was probably looking right through him. The poor thing looks so sad. I’ve seen that look before – on my mom when I first started acting out, and she realised she couldn’t stop me from skipping school, on Alex when I finally give in after a fight and she tucks me in to bed, on just about every friend I’ve ever made right before they decide it’s too much to deal with.  
“See? I’m sorry. I ha- have to go.”

I thought I was out clean for a minute but then he's right there and falling easily into step with me.   
“What are you gonna do?” he asks.  
I shake my head. “I don't know, yet. Maybe I'll go swimming.”  
He looks at me incredulously.   
“Laps, Sebastian. I'm not going to jump in the river.” I laugh and roll my eyes.  
“Oh. Can I come with you:?”  
I sigh. “All right, I’m not going swimming because I just yesterday got a new tattoo and Jez... Jez would kill me. I'm not... not trying to blow you off, I promise.”  
“Buzz, this might not be the time to talk about it, I know that. But I want to be a part of your life and I want to see everything – the good, the bad, the ugly. I'm not going anywhere.”  
“Everyone says that.”  
“How else can I convince you?”  
“I don't know. Slowly, I guess. I want to trust you, I do. Just...” I can feel my control slipping, like I'm hanging by my fingertips on the edge of a cliff. “I'm not a circus freak. I know you wa-want to see it all, but you're not asking if I want to share.”  
Sebastian nods. “Okay. Would you do one thing for me?”  
I raise my eyebrows and put my hands on my hips, wary of answering until I know what it is.  
“If you can help it... maybe if you decide to have sex you could, um... call me? Before you call anyone else?”  
I laugh. “I can't do that, Sebastian. You just said you cared about me and wanted to be my friend, I'm not going to use you for sex when I have no intention of taking it further.”  
“You did before.”  
“That was a one night stand and we both knew it. I wasn't going to see you again.”  
“And yet here we are.” He spreads his hands wide and cocks his head, looking into my eyes with a smug grin. I don't want him to keep eroding my resolve but I can feel it turning to dust the longer those eyes bore into me. “C'mon, Buzz. Use me. Please.”  
“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath. When I look back up at him the bastard has a shit-eating grin on his face, his bright white teeth just shining in the slit of his lips. He knows he's won me over, and the last straw is when I realise there are far less destructive things I could do than spend another night with this amazing man. It's not my destruction I'm concerned about, though.  
“Fine.” I roughly grab his hand and turn back in the other direction, heading for his apartment.   
“That might be the worst invitation I've ever received, and I enthusiastically accept,” he says, laughing as he jogs to keep up.

  
  


 


	12. Labyrinth

** _Sebastian_ **

Now that we're inside my apartment I'm completely torn and even though the sight before me is one of the most erotic I've had the pleasure of experiencing – with Buzz naked on her knees, enthusiastically sucking my cock while I lean still clothed against the door, her hand working between her own thighs – I can feel the rational thoughts overpowering my erection and the blood slowly draining away. I tenderly thread my fingers into her hair and then stroke her cheek.  
“Buzz... baby, wait.”  
She pulls back and looks up at me with wide eyes that seem to blink more rapidly than usual, her hand still working my balls. “What? Did I do something wrong? You want me to finger you?”  
“No, doll... I mean, yeah. Just not right now. Can we slow down a minute?”  
Her hands scrub over her face and stands up. “I know what you're thinking.”  
“Oh, I really doubt that.”  
“You think I'm not at full mental capacity, my brain isn't working right and therefore this is taking advantage just like if I were high or drunk.”  
Oh. “Kind of.”  
Scooping her clothes into a bundle she sets them down on the hall table and rifles through for her panties, stepping one foot in at a time and pulling them slowly up her legs. I want to say something to stop her but I honestly can't read whether she's angry or upset or this is her way of slowing down, redressing the fact that I'm fully clothed and she's not wearing a stitch.  
“Buzz, would you please talk to me?”  
Finally she looks up and her expression is about as hurtful as they come – complete indifference. “I don't want t-to talk, Sebastian. I already sa-said that.”  
“You know I want you. I've wanted you all along and I'd never say 'no' to you.”  
“I just had your cock almost in my throat and you stopped m-me, I think that's a pretty clear 'no'. I'm not mad, I completely get it. I get it.”  
She's zipping up her dress now and I still don't have the answer. “I won't take advantage of you, Buzz. I just won't.”  
“And that is why we won't be doing this again. Because I have explained this to you when I'm straight and I've explained when I'm manic but you think you know better. This isn't like me having too much to drink and throwing myself at a random stranger. You're not the white knight who's going to rush in and save me from myself. This...is...my...life. Every fucking day.”

I watch her ruffle a hand through her hair and search through her purse, completely helpless and desperate to make her stop.  
“Just... wait. Can we forget I said anything?”  
She looks pointedly at my now flaccid dick and plants her hands on her hips. “Apparently not. Crazy chick is slightly less hot than horny slut, huh?”  
“You know I don't think that. What are you going to do?”  
“I don't know. Go see Brennan and get a drink, I guess.”  
“You're going to _Shadows_ to pick up.”  
“Sebastian, you and I are not meant to be anything. And that's okay because you deserve better. It also means you can't dictate my sex life, and when I need to get off I need to get off. It's better than the other alternatives, I'm not hurting anyone.”  
“You're hurting me,” I mumble under my breath.   
“I gave you the chance to walk away, I told you that it was your best option, and you didn't listen. You're no different to... You think you can fix me, like you have some secret solution, but that's not how it is. I don't need fixing, I have ways of coping... I don't need anyone.”

The sympathy I've previously felt when she gets like this – unable to finish a thought, fidgeting with the zipper on her purse until I want to snatch it from her hands, her eyes darting wildly about the room – are turning into pure frustration and anger. The way she keeps calling me just when I've started to believe she won't, pulling me in when I see her, feeding me enough spark to light the kindling but never enough for the fire to take hold – it's all about to tip over and spill out. She's right, it's not her fault, I should have listened to her words instead of trying to read her actions, but it was her body that said what I wanted to hear. She's still rambling while looking around for her shoes, and even though I know I should just let her go, the thought of another man having her is more than I can stand.   
“Buzz, just stop. Stop!”   
When I shout she looks up almost like I've frightened her, and then slinks toward me until she's so close that if either one of us took a deep breath our chests would touch. “You gonna yell at me now?” she says in a low contrast.  
“This is stupid. Tell me you don't feel anything at all and you can walk right out the door. Fuck it, I'll come with you and make sure you find the biggest dick in the bar.”  
She steps back. Finally, I have her attention.  
“I do, and I'm done lying about it and being afraid you'll run off like a scared little bunny. You have issues, you're no picnic, I don't give a shit. I want to be with you. Something is happening in you, too, or you wouldn't have shared anything with me. You'd have given me the default responses when I asked questions and if you really wanted me to disappear out of your life you'd have made that happen. But you keep calling because there's _something._ I'm under your skin just like you're under mine and it pisses you off, it makes your skin crawl, because there's not a god damned thing you can do about it.”  
“Just let me go.”  
“No.” I step in and block her path to the door, her eyes drag up my body so slowly I fear the look contained there, but when they meet mine there's just the tiniest hint of fear in the blown-wide pupils. The rest is somewhere between fascination and the confusion of a woman who is unfamiliar with having to wrestle a man for control.  
“Really? You think you can stop me?”  
“Say the words, Buzz. Tell me there's nothing there.”  
“Or what?” she challenges.  
“Or you're not leaving. You're safe here, you want to get your rocks off I'm sure we can find a way.”  
Buzz rolls her eyes. “Here we go again. Pretty boy thinks he's gonna save the damsel in distress from her evil mental illness. Thinks he can keep her _safe_.” She spits the word like it's acid in her mouth. “Who was it, baby boy? Who did you lose that made you so determined to save me?”  
“You've got it wrong. I just know you're worth the effort.”  
“You don't think other men thought the same, until they realised I wasn't? You think you're special? You're not.”  
I step forward and spin us both around so she's pinned against the wall beside the door and look down at her with a light hand on her jaw. “Special? No, I don't think I'm special. I do know that I can handle your bratty ass when you're manic, though. I could do this all day, sweetheart.”

She falters for a fraction of a second and then pulls her arm back ready to strike. I don't react until it's flying at my face, grabbing her forearm in a solid grip and keeping hold of it while I wait for her next move. We both watch it shake before I raise it above her head and pin it, along with the other, by the wrists on the wall.   
“That all you've got?”  
Biting her lip, she smiles. “There he is.”  
Before I can question her meaning she kisses me, hard. It's rough and primal, teeth clashing, her tongue forcing through the corner of my mouth. I cover her open lips completely with mine and thrust my tongue between her teeth until she bites hard enough for me to yelp, I release her arms and her short manicured nails scratch at the base of my scalp, my hips grinding her against the wall. My hands find the curve of her ass and I dig in with my fingers, pulling upward until she wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck without breaking the kiss. We remain attached until we reach the bedroom and fall onto the bed, where she tugs off my shirt by the collar and takes off her dress and bra while I hastily pull her panties down and off, kissing up the inside of her leg to her heat.

I look up at her as I swipe upward with my tongue, watching her eyes roll back when I find her clit. After a few minutes her heels dig into my shoulder blades and her hands fist in my hair as she pulls me forcefully against her pussy, her moans heavy and loud.  
“Harder,” she cries out.   
I drive two fingers inside her cunt and push up against her g-spot, rubbing it with the pads of my fingers while she rubs her clit on my tongue. Just as her thighs start to shake I suck her bud into my mouth and roll it between my teeth, and she screams. Bucking against me she tries to back up but I hold her hips firmly down on the bed and keep sucking while she cries out and fists the sheet. After a few seconds I release my mouth and pull back to look down at her as my fingers continue thrusting against her g-spot, her juices pouring out with obscene sloppy noises and coating my hand before soaking the sheet below. She's so beautiful with her legs spread impossibly wide, begging for more even as she inches backward away from the overstimulation. Her back is arched in the most perfect of curves, the stone in her navel throwing glittering light all over the ceiling, her fingers like claws in the soft sheet, searching for purchase in the mattress and continually slipping so she has to readjust. Her skin is covered in a light sheen of moisture and it glistens in the dim light as though she's been sprayed with shimmering diamonds, her breasts bouncing in all directions as she moves. I keep my eyes on her and withdraw my fingers slowly, guiding her back down and smoothing my hand up from her navel, over her soft belly and between her breasts, splaying out over her throat and jaw to come to rest on her cheek with my fingertips in her hair. With her eyes still closed and her lips parted to suck in shallow breaths I push my thumb into her mouth and she sucks it eagerly, wrapping her tongue around it and hollowing her cheeks until I withdraw and lean over her, my weight on my elbow as I stroke the hair from her face and watch her eyes open.  
“What the fuck was that?” she asks softly, her voice cracking when she giggles.   
“Still think I can't handle you?” I don't wait for an answer, just lean in and claim her mouth, thrusting my tongue forcefully against hers until she taps the back of my neck with her fingertips to come up for air.   
She straightens and sets her eyes on mine before she speaks again. “That all you've got?”  
I smile just for a second and then lean across her for a condom packet before sitting back on my heels. “On your knees,” I growl.

Buzz turns over and tucks her legs up under her stomach so when she sinks down her ass is over her heels, her hands stretched above her head to give her a relaxed and cat-like pose. I roll the condom over my aching dick, needing to be inside her right this second. Lifting her hips so that beautiful ass is pointed right at me I don't wait or give her any chance to prepare, just hold tight on both sides and bury my dick to the hilt with one thrust. Buzz is jolted forward and lets out a gasp of surprise, her muscles tightening around me as I guide her forward a few inches only to pull her back onto me again with a groan. She feels so fucking perfect I'm sure if I stayed right here long enough I'd come without even moving.

I glide my open hand all the way up her spine and rake my fingers into her hair before closing my hand in a fist, the silky strands catching between my fingers as she allows me to tug her head back with a moan. As I start a rhythm with my thrusts I take the other hand from her hip and grip the opposite shoulder so her back arches, and she continues rocking back against me so our skin slaps together, the angle making her moans immediately louder and more urgent.   
“Fuck... Seb... Harder,” she shouts again.   
Tightening my hand in her hair I hold her still and push my hips forward so that every measured thrust jolts her forward, slamming into her over and over until her legs start to shake and her moans are breathy and desperate.  
“Come on, baby,” I grunt. “Give it to me.”  
With a stuttered cry she clamps down on me and I feel her body weaken, but I keep thrusting and push her through it until she falls silent but for heavy breaths.

Slowing for a few seconds I lay my body over hers and she turns to kiss me deeply. As I raise back to my knees I release her hair and bring her arms behind her so she's upright against my front, leaning down to kiss her shoulder so she can clasp her hands at the back of my neck. While I set my pace with sharp thrusts I hold her pelvis against me while the other hand roams up her body, tweaking each pierced nipple and roughly kneading her breasts before grazing her throat.   
The moan that comes from her vibrates her entire body and she cranes her head back to expose more of it to my touch. “Yes... please,” she whimpers, needy and breathless.   
I carefully spread my fingers and thumb around her throat, her ragged moans and cries spurring me on as I fuck her hard and fast, every fibre of my body aching and strained and screaming for release. As soon as I feel her torso start to collapse and shake I'm right there with her, holding her tight as I tip over the edge and spurt inside her with feral grunts I'd never expect to be mine.

Sitting back on my heels I let my spent cock withdraw and pull her down on to my lap, kissing her neck and shoulders as she sighs sleepily and lets her head fall forward. Her hands reach back and tangle in my hair, scratching soft patterns into my scalp and making me hum contentedly as my skin is covered in goosebumps.   
“You tired?” I murmur against her skin.  
“Mm hm.”  
She lies down on the pillow and pulls up the covers while I discard the condom and do the same. Before I can roll toward her she's snuggling up against me and laying her head on my chest with a relaxed sigh.  
“Thank you, Sebastian.”  
“What for?” I ask, dragging my fingertips up and down her spine as her eyes fall closed.  
“Persisting.”  
I pull her closer and kiss her temple, holding her tight to my chest as her breath becomes heavy with sleep. That tiny shred of hope might be all I get, but I can hang onto it for a lifetime if I have to.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I'm having the most sublime and erotic dream of my life. If I'm honest I've dreamed of Buzz a lot since we met, not that I'd admit that to her because in most of them I'm trying to save her from some gruesome death – falling from a cliff, being run over, drowning.   
This one is not at all like the others.  
She's laying one of my splayed legs, her breasts soft on my thigh and her arm resting on my stomach, while she lazily kisses and sucks my balls. In response my cock twitches and drips precum onto my abdomen, which she laps up like a kitten before taking the tip gently in her mouth. I hum deep in my throat and reach down to smooth my fingers through her hair as the waking world starts to creep in, reminding me to be quiet because Buzz went to sleep on my chest and we wouldn't want to wake her...

My eyes fly open and I look down at my hand, her blue strands trailing through my fingers as her head moves slowly up and down over my dick.  
“Holy shit I wasn't dreaming.”  
She chuckles. “It's all real, baby.” Her lips close around one of my balls and she sucks gently, swirling around it with her tongue while her hand drags down and back up my shaft.  
“Fuck, Buzz. That feels really good. Like _really_ good. When my language centre wakes up I'll give you a better word.”  
She shifts and her hand continues toying with me, when I look down she's looking back at me with her chin resting on my torso. “Jubilee,” she says quietly.  
“Huh?”  
“My name. It's Jubilee.”  
“Jubilee,” I repeat back to her. “It suits you, it's a lovely name. Do you want me to use it?”  
“No.”  
“Okay.” I smile and stroke her cheek, she nuzzles my palm and closes her eyes. “Thank you, doll.”  
Before I can enquire further her mouth is back on me, sucking and licking my balls while her hand lazily pumps my cock.

I let her guide my legs apart and lie between them, allowing her easier access. Her warm mouth and flat tongue are exquisite on the sensitive skin, and then she moves down to lick at my perineum and my head starts to spin. _It's that good._ She keeps her tongue soft and the pressure is feather-light but the sensation is enough to make me whimper and spread my legs like a two dollar whore, as wide as they'll go in a plea for more. Buzz responds by doing it again, and again, sometimes harder with the point of her tongue and sometimes tiny kitten licks that flutter against me until I feel it in my stomach. Her hum vibrates against my skin and then her tongue is probing further down, and down, and I keep expecting her to stop but she doesn't.

“Whooooa my god.”  
I hear her stifle a giggle and look down to see her bemused grin from between my legs.  
“Good or bad?” she asks.   
“Um... good?”  
She keeps watching me and circles my asshole with her finger, trying to gauge my response. As soon as her tongue makes contact with my skin again my head drops back onto the pillow and I moan a lot louder than I'd like. After a couple of minutes licking as it pulsates and I refrain from pushing harder against her, she returns her mouth to my cock and takes the whole length in one movement until I hit the back of her throat. Everything increases in urgency, her free hand moves down between her own legs and I hold her hair back with a fist, guiding her head up and down on my cock.   
“Fuck, doll. Get your mouth up here and ride my cock.”  
She raises one finger and darts out the door, using the bathroom while I roll on a condom and await her return. When she slinks back into the room she climbs onto the bed and sinks straight down on to my cock with a gasp, pausing and leaning down to kiss me deeply with her minty tongue.

After a few gentle rolls of her hips she pushes upright and starts to ride me, her fingers fluttering on her clit as she moves back and forth, my thumbs rolling over her nipples while my hands knead her breasts. It's only a matter of minutes before she's moaning loudly and grinding harder against me, and I watch the wave of climax wash over her; her head falls forward and her torso ripples and spasms, her breath catching in her throat for a second before she groans and her hips slow; then I feel her walls gripping me from the inside. The contractions are rapid at first, almost imperceptible with their tiny flutters, but they soon make way for slower and more powerful clenches that draw me in deeper as they become less rhythmic and further apart.   
She laughs, the way she so often does right after she comes, as though she hasn't quite released all of the euphoria and the last bit spills out in one of her beautiful and unrestrained giggles. I reach up and pull her down to me, kissing her mouth as I start to thrust up to her. Soon she's moaning against my shoulder, nipping at my collarbone to muffle the sound, and my balls are slapping against her as I fuck her rough and hard, like she asked for earlier. With one hand gripping each ass cheek and my fingers digging in to her flesh, I feel her fingers rubbing again as the tips occasionally brush my cock, and I hold back as long as I can while she mewls into my neck.

Buzz holds her breath for a second and I feel her orgasm break and crash over her in her shaking legs, dragging me along with her until I slam inside and come hard, my balls and shaft pulsating almost in time with her pussy as she lays on top of me and gasps for breath. Once I feel her weight sinking into me I roll her gently off and hold her tight in my arms as I fall back to sleep, hoping to keep her there until morning. Alas when I wake at 4am her side of the bed is cold and I find her working away on her ipad, curled up in my favourite chair and wearing one of my shirts. This time I don't argue, though, I leave her to it, and sometime just after dawn I feel her cool skin slip back between the sheets beside me, cuddling in to me for warmth.

As though she spent that time preparing herself to open up, she starts to spill out some of her secrets. She tells me about her parents admitting her to the psychiatric ward of their small-town hospital after they found her experimenting with cutting and burning herself, how the solution the small-minded doctors offered was outdated and unhelpful – to keep her heavily medicated as a long-term involuntary patient – and they only way they could see to keep her safe. How she fought to be heard until an intern from Chicago had her released, she stole the bus money from her brother and was on her way to New York with a bag full of meds and Alex's phone number before anyone knew she'd been discharged. It's then that I realise her stammering and tremors are worse when she's upset or stressed, and at times she pauses so long I don't think she'll continue.   
“I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that, especially when you were so young.” It's a battle to keep my own voice steady and I'm relieved she doesn't see the tears in my eyes, I know sympathy isn't the reason she's telling me.   
“Buzz came from my Dax, my brother,” she continues. “Because I was always buzzing around like a little bee, always looking for the next flower and never sitting still. It stuck.”  
“I can't say I've ever thought it didn't suit you,” I say with a laugh, kissing the top of her head. “Thank you for telling me all of this. It means so... it means everything to me.”  
“You've been so patient and kind and your motives always seem good, I thought you deserved a bit of honesty.” She clears her throat and draws circles over my heart. “I don't always go out and pick up when I'm manic, it's the endorphin rush and magnified sensation that I need. Sometimes I swim underwater, hold my breath until I'm about to pass out and I feel like my chest will explode, or I run until my legs and lungs are on fire and my heart is beating so fast I can't count. I have to feel, something big and burning and painful. It anchors me, reminds me I'm alive and this is real.” She rolls to show me her newest tattoo, running her fingers over the healing skin. “This works for a couple of days because it hurts and gets me high at the time and then it's a constant sting. The same with piercings.”  
“And sex?”  
“Yeah. Masturbation at a pinch, but it's not quite the same. Orgasms are like the ultimate high but they ground me at the same time.” She tilts her head to look up at me. “I'm sorry I made you be rough.”  
“You picked a fight with me.”  
She nods. “I needed that, a bit of pain. The good kind of pain. The kind you only get from really angry sex.”  
“You could have just asked.”  
“It wouldn't be angry, then. It's not the same.”  
“No? I don't fuck when I'm angry, Buzz. That's a good way to actually get someone hurt.”  
Her eyes widen and she sits up. “Serious?”  
I nod and grin.  
“Well fuck me, you deserve a fucking Oscar for that.”  
“Next time just ask, okay?”  
“We'll see. I want to trust you, Seb. I really do. But...”  
“But everyone else has given up when you got difficult?”  
“Difficult is putting it mildly. I can't change, and I wouldn't if I could. I fuck things up. I hurt people. When people walk out on me it's because I drove them to it and I deserve it. What scares me is that I'm starting to care about you, which means I care about breaking your heart. And I will, if you entrust me with it I will find a myriad of ways to crush it.” She sighs heavily. “You d-don't deserve tha-that.”

I flip her onto her back and stare down into her eyes. “Fuck it. Why can't we just enjoy each other's company and see where it goes?”  
“Didn't you hear what I just said?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You should run. You know that, your brain is telling you right now 'run and don't look back'.”  
“Yeah. It is.”  
“You should listen to it.”  
“Maybe we both need a little pain with our pleasure.” I tuck her hair behind her ear and slowly bring my lips to hers, kissing her long and deep, and she wraps her arms tight around my neck to reciprocate.

As dawn breaks outside these walls, her strained voice is crying out my name, her body writhing and quivering with a third orgasm as I slam my cock deep inside her with an undignified grunt and fill the condom with warm cum. She's sleeping in my arms within a couple of minutes, and fuck if she doesn't feel like she belongs there. Buzz wants to trust me and she's starting to feel safe enough to shine the light on a tiny sliver of her mind, show me what she hides from the rest of the world. Instinct tells me to protect her and be the man she needs to lean on when things get tough, but I'm not naïve enough to think it's so simple.

 


	13. Medicinal

**Buzz**

Two days holed up in Sebastian's apartment and every fibre of my body is humming with excitement even during my short stints of sleep. I ache like I've been somehow crushed by a truck and then pumped back up to human form, my muscles still acclimatising to their regular shape after being stretched in the most exquisite ways and abused to the very limit of their stamina. Between my thighs the heavy throb of constant arousal and bruised soft tissue tingles and spreads its warmth up through my torso as I rise to consciousness, bubbling and boiling in my veins. The touch of Sebastian's warm lips on my shoulder is like a soothing balm to my strained limbs, the tightening of his arms around me turns me down to a comfortable simmer.   
“Good morning.” His warm breath and thick stubble tickle my skin, the gravel in his voice telling me he's just woken up.  
“Yes it is.” I turn over and rest my head on his bicep, resting my hand on his firm chest as he kisses my lips. I groan as I stretch my legs. “I have to go home today.”  
“Sorry, but no. We are not leaving this bed except to use the bathroom. No clothes. No leaving.”  
I chuckle and scratch my fingertips on his jaw. “Much as I would love that, I really do have to. I can come back, but I need supplies.”  
“Like what? I bet I have it here.”  
“Really? Are you a pharmacy now?”  
“Ok I don't have that stuff here. You could bring a few over and leave them if you like, then if there's a next time you wouldn't have to worry.”  
I raise my eyebrow at his insinuation and then smile when he saves it with 'if' instead of 'when'. “We'll see.”

After a shower and coffee and polite refusal of all manner of breakfast foods, Sebastian walks me home. Previously I've been strict about anyone knowing where I live but I think it's time I changed that with Sebastian, he's been so patient and trusting with me it's the least I can do. Also I'm honestly not interested in parting ways just yet. This might be a short sojourn away from reality but I'm determined to enjoy it as long as it lasts. He has a cap pulled low on his head and his hair tucked behind his ears, sunglasses covering his eyes. Around half way he brushes my palm with his fingers but either thinks better of it or never intended to actually hold it, and I'm not sure if I'm disappointed or relieved. Steadying my hand to slide the key into the door I realise what an occasion this is – something I've never in my life done with a man.

My home is both my safety and my prison, where I sometimes wallow for days on end with the curtains drawn, the darkness inside me bleeding out and sucking the natural light from my environment. I hide there until it passes, behind the door that keeps my demons from the rest of the world, until they fall silent and sleep. When the bright colours and screeching noise of life is too much the thick exterior shuts it out so I can breathe, when the silence hurts my ears and sitting still makes my heart race it tries every time to confine me, before ultimately spitting me onto the street to get my fix without passing judgement on my methods. These walls absorb my screams and take my punches, hear my confessions and keep my secrets. I'm sheltered when I don't deserve it, held when I am unlovable, welcomed back without question when I abscond. My apartment is my safe space, the only place in the world that I can be whoever I am at the time.

Sebastian seems to sense my hesitation and hugs me from behind.   
“You want me to wait out here?”  
I clear my throat. “No, it's fine. Come in.”  
Sebastian waits in the kitchen with hands stuffed in his pockets, looking around while I stuff some fresh clothes into a bag and then change the ones I'm wearing. On the way back I knock on Alex's door and she answers immediately. She's not happy and I definitely feel her anger is aimed at me.   
“Where have you been? You didn't call or answer your phone yesterday, your meds should have run out this morning.” She stops shouting when she spies Sebastian lingering in the kitchen and lowers her voice to a direct hiss. “You were with Sebastian all this time? Why wouldn't you answer your phone!'  
“I'm sorry, we were...” I trail off with a giggle. “Sorry. I should have called. I need my meds, please.”  
“Give me a minute.” She clicks the door closed and I turn back to Sebastian.   
“Would you like a coffee or something?”  
“No, thanks.” He chews his lip for a few seconds. “Why weren't you answering your phone? I thought that was part of the deal?”  
“It is, I just... usually I missed them because we were busy.” I drag my fingertips down his chest. “You've had me so occupied I forgot to call her back.” I back him up against the counter and kiss him hard, sucking his tongue into my mouth until he relents and kisses me back. We only break apart when Alex clears her throat loudly from behind us.   
“Alex, this is Sebastian.”  
“Hi,” she says with a tight smile and a nod in his direction. “Here you go. These are for now, and these are to replace the emergency ones in your purse.” She lets several loose tablets fall into my hand, followed by a small pill bottle.  
I look down at the tablets in my palm and frown, looking up at her with a 'please explain' expression. There's a tiny yellow tablet in amongst them, an anti-psychotic I can use for prolonged manic episodes, usually after being talked into it by both Alex and Erica. Holding the bottle up to the light gives me further cause for concern. “Can I at least have a few days' worth?”  
“That's not our agreement, Buzz. Can we talk for a minute in private?”  
I sigh and look at Sebastian, who calmly leans in to squeeze my hand. “It's fine, I'll wait for you outside.”

“When do you see Erica next?”  
“Some time this week, why?”  
“Honey, I want to step back and let you do this on your own, but he doesn't know you like I do. When you need to be told firmly to slow down, he won't do that. I'm worried about you, Buzz.”  
“Alex, I'm fine. I'm taking my meds, I'm not doing anything dangerous. He won't let me.” I snigger and her frown intensifies further than I'd have thought possible. I think I could plant a vegetable garden in the lines on her forehead, and I know I should feel guilty for those.   
“You call me tomorrow morning. After this cycle we'll talk about you having more meds at Sebastian's apartment. Have you slept?”  
“A little. Enough.”  
“I want him to be good for you, I just don't know yet.” She looks down at my side. “You're taking your laptop?”  
“Even I can't fuck twenty four seven, Alex. Sometimes Sebastian needs to sleep.”   
She rolls her eyes and pulls me in to a hug. “I love you, Buzz. Take care of yourself and call me. No excuses.”  
“I love you, too.” I toss the pills into my mouth and wash them down with a bottle of water from the fridge. “I feel good, honey. Really good.”  
“I'll bet you do,” she says. “I'm really happy you've given him a chance, I just hope you haven't gone all in too soon. Slow down and enjoy it a bit, the beginning is the fun part.”  
“Yes, mom,” I tease. “I am enjoying it, you know I only have two speeds.”  
“That's what worries me, what will happen when your brain jumps on the brakes next week.”

Sebastian is like no other man I've been with. He can watch me writhe until I'm begging to come and then 'boop' my nose, fuck me like a worthless ragdoll and then kiss me so tenderly I swoon, push his thumb forcefully between my lips and then stroke my cheek while I suck it. In five short days he's thoroughly examined and traversed every inch of my body with both mouth and hands, traced every line of my tattoos and tasted every crease of my skin, pondered every jewel that resides in my flesh. He makes me want to acquire more so he can scrutinise those, too. His mouth draws moans from the deepest pools inside me, sounds from my throat that I never knew were possible, desperate whimpers that don't even sound human. Every touch makes me want more and when he's inside me my body arches and bends in ways I didn't know were possible, my skin prickling to be pressed against his. He has become an expert in pulling orgasms from me one after the other, pressing his fingers just there and rubbing just so, sucking or fluttering his tongue. Experience tells him when to push me through the initial ecstasy for something better and when to back off so I'm overcome with bliss, and on more than one occasion he's left me quivering and spent long after I believed I couldn't give him any more, my body convulsing on the mattress even while we're both dozing off.

Of course there are also times like this morning when I was bent over the kitchen bench and he fucked me so hard and fast he lost himself in the moment and painted my bare back with cum, or the couple of occasions I refused to stop and he came down my throat. The last few nights he's given me good stretches of sleep by utterly exhausting me – something that's not easy to do – and leaving me floating in such a state of bliss I fall asleep contentedly listening to his heartbeat like some lovesick teenager. I find it both comforting and terrifying. That he can have that effect on me so easily, that he's beginning to understand the little signs that give away my desires, and that instead of fleeing like my brain tells me to I want to show him more.

 _Mania is in control,_ I remind myself daily. In a few days this will pass, the incredible productivity and hyperactivity will be replaced with the disappointing thud and resultant hangover of returning to 'normal'. I can really feel it this evening, the sensation like I've been gliding effortlessly on top of the water and now I'm starting to slow, weighed down and taking more effort on each stroke just to keep myself afloat. With my upper body draped over Sebastian's I notice his heart beat slowing as the sweat cools on our skin, both of us breathing a little easier after the heaving gasps and grunts of a few minutes prior.   
“I have to go home in the morning,” I say softly, kissing just above his nipple.  
“Are you coming back?” he asks.  
I don't know how to answer that. I want to believe that in the coming days my feelings for Sebastian won't change, but it's happened before. Even as his heart beats steadily in my ear and I feel like the mechanics of my brain are literally slowing, I'm fighting it because I don't want this to end. Chances are good that it will, that I'll spend the next few days wishing I didn't have to break his heart, and it knocks the wind from my lungs.  
“You're coming down the other side, huh?” his gentle voice interrups my thoughts and his fingers stroke up and down my back.   
Unable to find the right words, I just hold him tighter and nod.   
“Ok. Is there anything I can do?”  
“No,” I whisper.   
He's silent for a long time, the drag of his hand up and down my spine the only indication that he hasn't fallen asleep.  
“Buzz?”  
“Hm?”  
“I need you to know this but I need you to not be scared off.” He pauses. “I am completely in over my head with you and it's terrifying. But it's real, and whatever you have to deal with for however long, I'll be here.”  
After a minute or so I turn my head and rest my chin on his chest, running my nails through the stubble on his jaw while I stare into those beautiful blue eyes. “It's real for me, too. Please remember that when I don't answer your calls and you don't hear from me for days or weeks. This week has been amazing, Sebastian. I only hope I can sort my shit out and be worthy of you.”  
“Buzz – ”  
“You're different, Seb. You deserve better... better than I can give you right now at least. I _will_ treat you terribly, I already feel awful about it.”  
“You can't feel guilt for something you haven't done yet.”  
“I can. It's what I do. It's the only thing that's ever been constant.” I laugh. “Fuck, that sounds like some poetic pity party bullshit.”  
Sebastian rolls us both over so I'm on my back and his weight is on one elbow, the other hand sweeping the blue hair back from my face. “Thank you,” he says solemnly. “For letting me in, for opening up to me this week. I don't pretend to know how hard that was or what changed your mind. Just... don't shut me out again? Now that I've seen one side of you I'm greedy and I want more. I want to see them all.”  
I sniff, my nose and throat suddenly constricted. At first I assume my nose must be bleeding but then my lip quivers and Sebastian swipes the corner of my eye.   
_Why the fuck am I crying?_ It's as though my body is manifesting emotions I don't even feel.  
“Sebastian... the mania is the fun part. It's the part that doesn't give a shit about consequences and acts without thinking. I get overwhelmed easily but I can cope with that, I can bring myself down a notch and get on with it. The lows are just like being stuck in a dark room and there's no way out, it's just me and my guilt, and not only can I not escape but I have absolutely no desire to. If not for Alex I'd just have withered away and died by now, and I wouldn't care enough to stop it.”  
The muscles in his jaw clench so tight that I reach up and smooth them with my fingertips, when he finally speaks his voice cracks. “Do you... have you tried to...”  
I nod. “Twice. Long time ago.” I want to say something like 'but I'm better now' or 'I'll never do it again'. The words are on the tip of my tongue, it would be so easy to just say it and ease the pain in his eyes, but I can't lie to him. And he looks down at me like I'm broken, like I'm terminally ill and he's going to be the hero and find the cure at the last second, his eyes glistening with tears and his lips pressed together so hard they've all but disappeared.

When I can't stand it any longer I pull him down into a long kiss, pouring all of the turmoil in my belly into his mouth while my hands grip his back like claws holding to a ledge for dear life. A drop of moisture lands on my cheek and I keep my eyes closed long after the kiss is over, holding his forehead against mine. I don't want to open them because I don't want to see that look on his face again.   
Not ever. In a few hours I'll believe I have a solution to that, a plan to avoid it permanently and save us both from heartbreak. At least that's how it goes in my head.

In the meantime we spend the next hour on tender touches and slow kisses, ending with Sebastian between my legs and bringing me to one of the slowest and most intense orgasms of my life. This time the tears are all physiological and I wipe them on his shoulder as he fills my contracting cunt and moves back and forth slowly. For once I don't plead 'harder' or meet his thrusts and try to make him go faster, it's too good not to enjoy every second and make it last.  
He makes love to me, and I never want it to end.

In the dead silence of the early morning his breath is warm on my neck, barely making a sound as his chest slowly rises and falls. It's about the time I slip out of bed because I can't sleep, only this time I'm slinking out of his arms to get dressed and collect my things without waking him. He must be used to my nocturnal habits because he used to stir at the slightest sound but now he doesn't even move until I leave a feather-light kiss on his forehead. Leaving was supposed to be easy, leaving him naked in bed was only supposed to stir arousal in my belly, not make my chest hurt.   
_It has to be this way,_ I remind myself. _I'll only cause him pain._

The next morning Alex drags me out of bed, just as the note I slipped under her door requested. We barely talk, she knows I'd rather not. I leave my phone at home and when I return there are more messages than I can process so I take my meds and switch it to silent, curling up in my bed and sleeping until she wakes me again for dinner. A little bit of me dies that night, crying my heart out in the shower. The tiny part that thought maybe if I took the chance and let myself fall for Sebastian and feel my own weird kind of happiness I'd be able to stop the rollercoaster for a while. This time around I went higher than before, but now the drop is just further and faster, my heart and stomach thrown up into my throat. At least I haven't dragged him along with me, right?

  
  


 


	14. Necromancer

Before I opened my eyes I knew she was gone.

I guess she didn’t think I’d expect that, but I’m not surprised at all. Some would say I’ve lowered my expectations, I prefer to think I’m learning more about the way her brain works. Still, after spending every minute with her it feels strange waking up each morning without her hair tickling my face or her limbs spread so she takes up the whole bed. I once asked which side she slept on when she was in her own bed, and her response explained a lot: _I sleep in the middle._

As much as I loved having her right here all of the time I did push a lot tasks to one side so I could enjoy it, which gives me a lot to catch up on now. My mind seems to be coping by splitting itself into different currents – the top is calm and focused on work, the middle is racing with questions and working away maniacally at a solution and willing me to just go find her, the bottom is thick with sadness and just hopes she returns when she’s ready. I'm choosing to let the top carry me away, like when you're out on the ocean in a boat and don't think about what's beneath you – as long as you can't see it, it can't affect you – and if I run out of work then I'll wade my way through the other crap.

Spending a day with my mom calms me as only a mother's attention and advice can, although it ends with a playful argument over who kept bringing us back to the topic of Buzz. I'm adamant it must have been her, it certainly seemed that way from my side, but she's equally as convinced I can't stop talking about a woman and determined to rib me over it at every opportunity.   
“When do I get to meet this woman who has you in such a state?”  
“I am not in a state!”  
“Oh, sweetheart.” She gave me that look, like I was an adult about to finally be told the truth about Santa because I hadn't taken any of the obvious cues. “Every time you talk about her you get flushed and you get this little tug in the corner of your mouth, even when it's about the less pleasant side. I've never seen you so enthralled, you must care for her a great deal.”  
“Yeah.” I don't even bother trying to hide my smile this time. “I do.”

It's only been a week, but when we were literally only apart to use the bathroom for ten days the time without her seems to stretch out until an hour is unbearably long. I was wrong to bombard her with messages in the first day, if nothing else I hope to get the chance to apologise. I need to prove to both of us that I can give her space when she needs it, but that doesn't mean I can't leap for the phone when it rings.   
“Buzz? Are you all right?”  
She laughs on the other end. It's soft and a little strained, but it's a familiar laugh nonetheless. “Hi, Sebastian. I'm okay, I'm sorry I didn't call sooner.”  
“Don't apologise, Doll. How are you doing, really?”  
There's a long pause before she answers. “Pulling through slowly. How are you?”  
“Keeping myself occupied. It's really good to hear your voice, Buzz. I'm really, really glad you called, it means a lot. Even more when you're not entirely back on your feet.”  
Another pause, this one long enough that I worry the call has been disconnected.   
“I miss you,” she whispers. Her voice is tiny, frail, and frightened, this is not at all the woman I’m familiar with.  
“I’m here any time you need me, darlin. Would you like me to come over for a while?”  
The answer is swift and firm. “No.”  
“Okay. Whenever you – ”  
“Tomorrow. Can you come tomorrow afternoon?”  
“Absolutely. Is there anything I can bring you?”  
“Just you,” she says. “Thank you, Sebastian.”  
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Doll.”

The mingling of emotions in my belly is enough to make me queasy – hearing the desolate sadness in her voice made my chest hurt so bad my heart is thundering like a race horse, I’m bashfully optimistic that she called me when she wasn’t manic, and I’m humming with excitement at seeing her tomorrow. I’d pushed down any anticipation about hearing from her at all, so the release is overwhelming enough that I have to get outside and go for a walk right away.

I feel like I should take a gift or something that will help, but I worry it will look like I’m trivialising her disorder and thinking I can fix it with flowers or liquor. I know better than that but I want to do it anyway, even if it just puts a tiny fleeting smile on those pink lips. Between my building and hers I wander through a few shops until I find the perfect thing – a fluffy, stuffed otter with a microwaveable heat pack inside. She’s told me before she curls up under blankets because she feels cold all the time when she’s down, and I’ll never forget the morning she was giggling hysterically at an otter video on her ipad. She told me later they were her absolute favourite animals and her ambition in life was to swim with them. I also stop for a block of my favourite chocolate, the memory of last time I ate it off her belly making my dick semi-hard and uncomfortable, and a couple of bath bombs because I hear they make everything right in the world or something. And then of course I imagine her in the bath, and the rest of the walk is spent trying to talk myself out of an erection and praying I don’t run in to any fans today.

At the door I rearrange the bag of goodies and my pants, then give myself a short talking-to about doing this for her, not for me. I’m not expecting anything from her, I’m here because she asked, I’m here because she missed me and just hearing her vocalise that is all I need. It has to be. If we were to get into this seriously I already understand that it wouldn’t always feel balanced or fair, but it doesn’t have to be. I’m going in with my eyes open, knowing she has needs I’m not used to considering, and fully aware that she will have to learn _how_ to be in a relationship. I can compromise and be patient, and I’ll do whatever it takes as long as it doesn’t hurt me in the process.

I draw a calming breath and push the buzzer beside her door, leaning against the railing. And I wait. After about a minute my palms start to sweat and I feel like a nervous teenager waiting to take my sweet girl on our first date, only her parents are home and her dad is a detective who already hates me because I make ‘those’ eyes at his little girl. I shift the bag to my other hand, wiping the moisture on my jeans before pressing it again. This time I hear the faintest shuffle of feet on the other side of the door.   
“Buzz? Are you there? It’s Sebastian.”  
There’s no response but I’m positive she’s right there on the other side.  
“Please open the door, Doll. I know you’re there.”  
I step back and look over at Alex’s door, wondering if I should just knock over there and see if she’ll let me in, but end up sitting on the step instead. With my back against the door I can practically feel Buzz doing the same on the other side.   
“Buzz?” I say quietly. My phone rings in my pocket and I’m quick to fish it out but totally confused to see Buzz’s face on the screen. “Hey, are you okay?”  
“Mm hm,” she squeaks.   
“Are you gonna let me in?”  
“I thought today would be a better day, but...”  
“It isn’t,” I finish with a nod, mentally kicking myself for thinking it would be so easy. “Do you want me to go?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“What if I stay out here for a bit? We can talk on the phone or hang up, whatever you want.”  
“You don’t have to do that.”  
“I want to.”

For a while I just lean my head against the door. I'm prepared to take this sit-in all the way if I have to, until either she comes out or she lets me in – she is that important to me and I have to show her I'm not just words. What I am, though, is a man who switches to sleep mode after a period of inactivity, so I pull up the Kindle app on my phone to continue reading my book.

I don't know exactly when I began reading aloud, or whether it was a conscious decision or natural progression. Buzz has told me before she struggles with the concentration required to read a lot of books and so mostly doesn't bother, but she certainly isn't averse to being read to.  
“ _The majority of the women who found their way to the military laundry room had left behind jobs as domestic servants or as stemmers in the tobacco factories. The laundry was a humid inferno, the work as monotonous as it was uncomfortable. Laundry workers existed at the bottom of the war’s great pyramid, invisible and invaluable at the same time. One aircraft industry executive estimated that each laundry worker supported three workers at his plants; with someone else to tend to their dirty clothing, men and women on the production lines had lower rates of absenteeism. The laundry workers earned 40 cents an hour, ranking them among the lowest paid of all war workers, but with few job options available to them, it felt like a windfall._ ”  
“ _Hidden Figures_?” she enquires softly.   
“Yeah. Want me to keep going?”  
“I like listening to you.”  
After another few pages she cuts in at the end of a paragraph. “Sebastian?”  
“Yeah, Buzz.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Any time.”  
I take the opportunity to give my eyes and voice a rest, leaning my head against the door.

It feels like hours later it opens without reason or warning and Buzz ushers me inside. She wears only an oversized t-shirt, her hair raked back to reveal sunken, bloodshot eyes atop razor-sharp cheekbones. It's only been a week but she looks like she hasn't eaten in months, all at once I want to feed, bath, and hold her. I don't, because she looks as skittish as a frightened rabbit, ready to dart past me and escape at any perceived threat. I carefully school my face into a neutral expression.  
“Hey,” she croaks. “I'm sorry, Seb. Just... bad day.”  
“It's totally okay, Doll. Do you want me to leave, or is there something I can do for you?”  
She shakes her head. “I need a shower.”  
“Oh.” I hand her the bag. “This is for you, there are bath bombs in there. Would you let me run you a bath?”  
She nods, and I head off for the bathroom.

Buzz joins me a few minutes later, bath bomb in one hand while the other cuddles the otter to her chest. That tiny curl I was hoping to see in her lips has turned into almost a proper smile as she rubs her cheek on its fluffy head.  
“You're a sweetheart. I love it.”  
“I hoped you would.” I shut off the water and step back, gesturing to the bath. “Your tub, miss. I'll leave you to it.”  
“Please, don't. You can't come all the way here to wait on the couch while I soak in the bath.”  
“I can, it's fine. I have a book to keep me occupied. I'm here solely to do what you need, Buzz. Nothing more.”  
“Would you join me, please?”  
Truthfully I don't think I'll be able to behave if I'm naked with her in the bath, I have genuine concerns that my cock will betray me. Funny how I didn't really feel like I took advantage when she was drunk but in her current state the thought of sex makes me feel like a despicable human being. Buzz steps out of her panties and closes the distance between us, standing on her toes to brush my cheek with her lips. I return it with a kiss on her forehead, holding her against me for a moment before I turn her front away from me and lift the shirt over her head, discarding it in the hamper. She takes my hand to steady herself while she steps over the side and then folds herself down into the milky pink water, hugging her knees to her chest.   
“Please?” she asks again.   
With an overly dramatic sigh I peel off my t-shirt before unbuckling my belt. “You trying to get me naked?” I swiftly step out of my pants and shorts and into the tub behind her, like a teenager trying to dress quickly in a public shower.   
“Honestly, Sebastian, I wish I were. Right now I wouldn't care if you got in here fully clothed.”  
Without hesitation she leans back against me and exhales as though she's been holding her breath for a week. With her shoulders hunched she appears physically smaller and weaker than I'm used to, when she turns to rest her cheek in my neck she almost feels like a small child seeking security, my arms easily enclosing her as she relaxes into my body.   
“This is not how today was supposed to go,” she says softly.   
“Buzz, I know how hard it was for you to call me, and talk to me, and then to let me in. I don't underestimate the privilege for a second, I want you to know how much it means to me. Sure, this isn't what you had in mind when you invited me over, but from where I'm sitting it's so much more important.” I smooth the hair back from her forehead and leave a gentle kiss there. “Thank you for trusting me.”

After a while she lets me wash her hair, closing her eyes and murmuring appreciatively as I massage her scalp. I towel off and get dressed, when she emerges a few minutes later she pulls on a pair of soft cotton pajamas and surprises me with a tight hug. “Thank you.”  
“Can I make you an early dinner?”  
“No, thank you. I'll probably just go to bed and watch some TV, I'm sure you have more exciting things to do.”  
“You should – ” I cut myself off, certain I'm not going to convince her to eat if Alex hasn't already. “I don't, if you'd like some company.”  
“Normally I wouldn't,” a smile peeks out at the corner of her mouth, “but you seem to be growing on me.”

She's asleep before we get through one episode of Lucifer, her cheek warming my chest through my t-shirt. She expects me to mind being here while she sleeps, assumes I'm bored senseless just lying here while her fingers rest on my stomach, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. If anything this week has only cemented what I probably already knew, and being in complete bliss with her doing absolutely nothing only further affirms it.

It feels like a kind of sick joke of fate, really, that of all the women I've met and dated it would be this one. Buzz, with all her unique craziness and determination to be independent and alone, who will likely be the death of me with her unpredictable mania and heartbreaking depression, is the woman I want to spend my life with.

And even not being able to confess that doesn't bother me, as long as I can be right here.

 


	15. Oxygen

## Buzz

My brain is defective.

I know it, anyone who spends more than a few hours around me knows it. It's no surprise to me that things with Sebastian aren't going the way I expected, because my brain just doesn't work the same way as other people's.

Alex used to spout 'Oh, you just haven't met the right guy yet,' and 'he's out there you just have to find him,' or variations of the same, until we both thought I had found the 'right one' and it ended in such spectacular fashion that even Miss Love-Conquers-All had to concede that perhaps I wasn't the committed relationship type. Despite all of that, she did impart some Alex wisdom over a bottle of wine a few months ago that is haunting me now: 'One day a man will give you pause. And then there will be one almighty disagreement between the logical and emotional sides of that messed up brain of yours. Just promise me you'll listen to both sides.' That actually made a lot of sense to me at the time and I assumed that was the way it would go down, so now that I've reached that point with Sebastian I'm kind of disappointed. I can influence a two-sided argument in my own brain, I can make damn sure it goes the way I want it to, but that's not what's going on here.

This isn't so much a war as a solitary dictator who can't choose a cause or opinion so just yells random catch-phrases in the hope that one sticks, and as a result I feel perpetually attacked from within.

My apartment is dark, the way I often keep it when my mood is low. Every curtain is drawn, blocking all but the slimmest sliver of sunlight, but the sound of life all around me lets me know day from night. Sebastian is here, sleeping beside me with his arms protectively wrapped around to the small of my back and his warmth surrounding me better than any blanket. In turn I'm hugging the otter he gave to me and I can't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. Truthfully between his body heat and the covers I'm a fraction too warm but afraid to move, because this feeling will inevitably be a fleeting one and I'm determined to enjoy it. I think today will be better than yesterday, given I actually feel like lifting my head from the pillow, but at this point it's still too early to tell. I want to stay here and be held, pretend for a bit longer that the beautiful man in my bed can make everything okay, but I have some non-negotiables to take care of first, so I slip carefully from his embrace and tip-toe out of the room.

Meds first. Two big glasses of water, even if it makes me nauseous. And it will, because I've been mildly dehydrated for at least four days now. Shower. Clean clothes – thank goodness for Alex doing some of my laundry. Another glass of water. Coffee. Another glass.

Next up on the routine is breakfast, but instead I'm leaning in the doorway watching Sebastian sleep while I finish my coffee. Even before he wakes up I can see he had a rough night – his hair is all over the place, since I got out of bed he's draped an arm over his eyes even though the room is dark, and he's snoring softly with one leg hanging half off the edge. Not for the first time I find myself wondering why he'd stick around after all I put him through, knowing that this nauseating cycle is doomed to repeat itself until either there's a magical cure for Bipolar or I die, and specifically why he stuck around yesterday and last night when I did my best to make sure he left and never returned. There are new concerns, too. Where do I begin to make up for that, how can I make it sustainable and be sure he's getting enough out of the relationship.

I want him to stay. I want to pepper kisses all over his body and make him promise never to leave because I really do love having him around, even when my actions quite obviously say otherwise. I want to swear to him hat I'll do better and get better, because I want him to be beside me when the next fog lifts, and the one after that. I try to rationalise it – disassociate from the feeling altogether – with how sexy and desirable he is all sprawled across my bed practically naked, how fantastic we are together in the sack, how any straight woman would feel the same, looking down at a beautiful and vulnerable man in their bed, soon to open those brilliant blue eyes and smile his thought-melting smile as he says 'good morning' in his signature deep husky voice.

But Christ, even I know it's not just about sex any more. I gave it my best, but my stubborn independence is apparently no match for Sebastian's insistence that we both felt like we were destined to be more than a one night stand. I'm totally out of my depth, though. The only reflexes I have are fight, flight, and fuck, and none of those are helpful here.

More than once, while I curled up in my chair by the window or lay in bed and wished for an end, I wanted to call him. There’s nothing he could have done and in truth I’m mortified he saw me in that state yesterday, but difficult as it is to admit, I feel comforted by his presence. It’s kind of like trying to light a black hole with a match, but just knowing someone else is there reminds me that the despair will pass eventually. All of this frightens the shit out of me, because just like every other predictable routine and cycle in my life I’ve seen where this one ends – it’s too much, it’s too hard, I'm too much effort. I don’t know how to stop my emotions from becoming involved, I think it’s already too late, though what I am an expert with is protecting my own interests and being prepared for the crash and burn.

Sebastian turns over and I smile at his arm reaching across the empty side of the bed, his brow furrowing before he opens his eyes. I set my cup down on the bedside table and stretch out in the space, his hand falling naturally to my hip as I prop up on my elbow and study his shining sapphire eyes. He shifts closer and buries his face in my neck, his stubble scratching at my skin and making it prickle with goosebumps.  
“Good morning,” he says, his gravelly voice further muffled by my skin. “Have you been up long?”  
“No, I just took a shower.”  
“Smell good,” he mumbles.  
I chuckle. “Thanks. You want some breakfast?”  
“Mmm,” his lips find my pulse and kiss is softly. “Are you on the – ” He stiffens as though an invisible hand has smacked the back of his head. “Yeah. Please.”  
“Sebastian.” I sit up, not because I want to separate us but because I can’t concentrate when his mouth is so close and his body flush against me. “You’re not gonna offend me by saying the wrong thing, god knows if I don’t like it I won’t hesitate to tell you straight.”  
He nods and scrubs a hand over his face.   
“And I want to thank you for yesterday, for being so patient and thoughtful, being here without judging me. I hate that you had to see it, but since I can’t change that... thank you.”  
Sebastian stretches up to hold my cheek gently in his palm, leaving a light kiss on my forehead. “I feel honoured that you let me see you yesterday, I know how hard it must have been.”  
“Opening that door... you’re right.” I nod. “Most difficult thing I’ve done in a long time. No one ever sees me like that.” I cringe internally and lower my eyes, hating the way my voice shakes.   
His thumb and forefinger gently guide my chin back up and for a few seconds he just stares into my eyes as if willing me to look at him, then kisses my lips gently, letting me take the lead and probe with my tongue.

Sebastian’s hands quickly thread into my hair, holding me to his lips as he tastes me, drinks me in and fills his lungs with my breath. By the time we part we’re both flushed and panting and my lips feel swollen and bruised, experiencing the full force of his need for me. Laying back on the pillow he tugs me down on top of him, reciprocating my laugh as I squash the wind from his chest, and I trail my fingertips over his shoulder and chest, down one side of his ribs until he wriggles. With my knee resting between his thighs I can feel his cock stirring to life as I draw random patterns all over his torso, his dark nipples hardening under my touch. In turn his hands move beneath my tank top and rub up and down my back, my hips grinding against him instinctively at his touch until he claims my mouth again hungrily. He takes my ass in both hands and squeezes the cheeks, guiding me back and forth over him and moaning around my tongue, pulling me down against him until I can feel his warmth and the rise and fall of his heavy breath through my shirt. With a long sigh I let go of the shame of yesterday, the tension I’ve carried in my shoulders so long they feel painfully stiff, push aside all of the worries about falling for another man who will undoubtedly walk away when he’s tired of me, and breathe in the calming serenity of Sebastian.

I can’t live in this sublime little bubble forever, but I can surrender to it for a little while. As I pull back for air I see Sebastian’s eyes frown playfully, his lips smiling back at me as I tuck his thick dark hair behind his ear.   
“You okay, Doll?”  
I nod, burying my face in his neck and filling my head with his scent rather than let my voice betray the emotion that makes me feel like I’m floating. I follow the pulse up his throat with my tongue, kissing and nipping at his jaw and letting the scratchy stubble abrade my mouth as I listen to him moan and sigh. I doubt he’ll ever know how much I love to affect him like this, feel the vibration of his arousal through his body and into mine or watch the eruption of his orgasm when I’m in full control. He tugs on the hem until my top is discarded on the floor, my bare breasts pressing against his stomach as I kiss his chest, and lap at his sensitive nipples. As I inch backward I take his shorts down his legs, closing my hand around his cock and kissing back up his thigh. He makes a guttural sort of groan that makes my mouth water and my legs turn to jelly, I keep my eyes on his as I gently kiss his balls and then take the tip of his cock between my lips, caressing it tenderly with my mouth while he strokes my hair and face with light fingers.   
“You're so beautiful,” he says softly, following it with a moan as I cup his balls.   
I stretch out over him and rake my nails down his chest as I kiss his shaft a few more times, my eyes always open and on his.

Suddenly it feels too dark, I want to see every inch of him in the light and feel the first hints of sun through the window. He frowns and shields his eyes as I back off the bed and pull back the curtains, angling the shutters so the sun filters through. Before I can get back to the bed my shorts are off and Sebastian pushes me onto my back, worshipping my body with his hands and mouth, kissing and stroking until I'm writhing and whimpering beneath him, arching into his touch and begging for more. He pauses to roll a condom down his length and rub himself back and forth between my slick folds, watching me soften and become desperate as he presses his body down and kisses me until I'm out of breath.  
“God, Buzz.” He pushes up far enough to brush the hair back from my face and trace his thumb over my lips, resting it in the centre while he focuses his intense blue gaze on me, his face contorting as though he's wrestling with a thought. “I just... fuck...I love you.”  
“Sebastian...” is all I can get out before he pushes deep inside and I grip his ass, digging my nails into the muscle and pulling him deeper with a satisfied sigh. Part of me is screaming and wants to recoil in horror but the rest is so overcome by his weight and his scent and his girth filling me, I'm lost in him. Nothing else exists.

With a growl in my ear and his teeth grazing my neck he glides back and forth, oh-so-slowly making love to me with every inch of his strong body. Each time he brushes so close to my clit and I push back against him in a desperate attempt for more speed and stimulation, only earning more sucking kisses on my collarbone.   
“Seb, fuck... I need... please.”  
He pauses long enough to hover above me but his hips don't stop their languid thrusts. “Tell me what you want, Doll.”  
I can't hold back a laugh. “I don't know. Just you.” I pull his face down to mine and suck his bottom lip between mine, feel his sharp breath as I snake a hand between us and find my aching clit with a moan.   
When our lips part he moves back to my nipples, sucking and biting gently without breaking his rhythm. I card my fingers through his hair and he stares back up at me, my orgasm fast approaching now as my fingers tug at my bud, my back arching off the bed. All I've ever known is the race to orgasm, drive each other wild until we're both soaked with bodily fluids and out of our minds with lust, so I'm out of my depth with this tender and slow sex, enough that I'm on the verge of panic.   
“Come for me, baby,” he whispers. “Wanna feel you spasm on me.”  
I flutter my fingertips a little faster, pinching gently at my swollen bud until my nails dig into Sebastian's shoulder and my breath sticks in my throat.   
“That's it, beautiful girl. Almost there.” He holds my thigh higher and pushes even deeper, an intense climax breaking over me as my body stiffens. Without warning he brushes my hand away from my clit and brings it up around his neck, my walls still rippling around him as he continues to thrust back and forth. “Fuck, that is the most wonderful feeling.”

I'm just getting my senses back in order when he stills and wipes an unfelt tear from my cheek. “Hey. What's happening?”  
“I don't know... that was just really intense. This is going to sound ridiculous, but...” I chuckle and drape a hand over my face. “I've never done it like this. Slow. Unless you count teenage fumbling.”  
“Serious?”  
“Yes.” I feel heat rise in my cheeks and the desire to run makes me wriggle.   
“Then allow me to show you how amazing it can be. You gotta be really in to the other person to do it right, otherwise it just gets boring.” He begins again, with a long deep kiss. “Relax, Buzz. Go with it.”  
So I let him take me, let myself drown in him until I don't know which moans are mine and which are his, and every stroke draws us closer together. My arms wrap tight around his shoulders and my legs around his thighs, desperate to remove every fraction of space between our bodies. As his tongue tangles with mine I feel his moans become more urgent, his thrusts less precise, and he tears his mouth away to let out a loud groan in my neck as he spills inside me.

I don't know how long we stay there, joined and softening together, kissing and touching as the sweat cools on our skin and the strips of sunlight make patterns of warmth on the crumpled sheets, but when he finally extracts himself we both need another shower. I let the water stream down my face and feel Sebastian's fingers tracing the outline of my mermaid tattoo.   
“I love this one,” he says. “I think it's my favourite.”  
“I do too, Jez drew it with me in mind.”  
His large hands rest on my hips and he holds my back against his front, kissing the curve of my neck. “Listen, about what I said...”  
I turn and press my palms firmly on his chest. “Sebastian, I wish I could just say it back whether I mean it or not, but I can't. For what it's worth I missed you terribly this week, and I trust you like I've never trusted anyone. This isn't just a fling or a game for me, but I'm just not there yet. I'm sorry.”  
The smile he gives me is as radiant as the sun, as though I've just granted every wish he ever had, while I'm still stuck on the way I just said 'yet' like it's a sure thing.   
“Buzz, that's all I need. Just to have you trust me is huge, and it's enough.”

Sebastian swaggers into the kitchen with his jeans low on his hips, a 'cat that got the cream' grin on his lips. He stands behind me at the bench where I'm methodically buttering a slice of toast I'm not really hungry for, resting his hands on my waist and kissing the side of my neck with a high-pitched hum.  
“You're very chirpy,” I say, hoping some of it might rub off on me.  
“I know you're not on top of the world or anything, but you made me really happy this morning.”  
I roll my eyes dramatically. “Yep, I know the secret to any man's happiness.”  
“Hey.” He spins me and sets me on the bench so quickly I squeak. “Not the sex, come on.” With his hands still resting on my waist he shakes me gently. “I'm serious. Does it bother you when I say it?”  
“Not unless it bothers you when I don't say it back.”  
“I love you, Buzz. That in itself makes me happy just being around you, not whether or not you can reciprocate it.”  
I nod and pull him in for a kiss, because I really don't know any other way to respond.

“What's this?” Sebastian gestures to an open folder on the bench, reaching over to peek at the front cover. “Disaster recovery?”  
“It's a term Erica figured I'd be familiar with, sort of like a manual for recovering data after a hardware failure, but for my brain.”  
“That's really cool.”  
 _Yes, it's just so awesome that I need a checklist that includes brushing my teeth and putting on clean underwear._ I don't say that out loud, because he's in far too good a mood for my snark this morning and I don't have the heart to burst his bubble.  
“It helps. Do you have any plans today?” I ask as he tosses his own toast onto a plate.  
“No, I'm all yours if you want to hang out. I'll find something to do if you want me out of your hair, though. I'm happy either way.”  
“I do have some work stuff to catch up on, I wouldn't be very good company.” I can see him peering over at the list like he wants to look but doesn't want to pry so I slide it over in front of him. “You only had to ask if you wanted to look, it's not that interesting.”  
“I just think it's a great idea, I won't look if it's private.”  
“Go nuts, if you're still in love with me when you're done I'll be surprised.”  
“Buzz,” he warns.   
“Relax, I was joking.”  
Am I testing him? Perhaps, on some level. Anything he could possibly be scared off by is in that folder, every red flag behaviour I have, so if he gets to the end and still wants to be with me then maybe we do have a hope in hell. We eat mostly in silence although he does raise his eyebrows and ask a couple of questions, before suggesting he leave me be for a while and call me this afternoon. At first I figure that might be the beginning of the end, that I might not hear from him again, but his long, deep kiss at the door only further convinces me of his feelings.

I want to be able to say the words as freely as he does. People say 'I love you' all the time – I'm fairly sure I've proclaimed my own infatuation to a number of my employees – and I have no problem telling Alex multiple times a day, but this kind of romantic love? I'm not even sure I'll know it if smacks me in the face. What if I can never actually tell him? Would showing him or feeling it be enough, or would he eventually leave if I couldn't articulate it in three specific words?

The pull of the panic-attack whirlpool is strong, but I claw my way out to drown in unread emails instead. Re-direction is apparently not just a strategy for preschoolers, and the first message I come to that raises an error in my coding is the one I focus on. Computer language is second nature to me – unlike people computers just make sense, there's no emotional influence or grey areas, just ones and zeros, on or off, right or wrong. If you use an incorrect command there's no pussyfooting around or awards for effort, you just have to go through the tens of thousands of lines until you find the error and fix it. So I do, and I make some improvements, let Sabine know I'll be back in the office tomorrow, and methodically make my way through the rest of today's list – call Erica, do the laundry, eat, drink another two glasses of water.

That night as I slip into the fresh sheets I wish I hadn’t turned down Sebastian’s offer to come over. Somehow his energy is a positive influence on mine – calming, soothing, holding me up – and while I don’t feel like I need him I do _want_ him around. I can function at a reasonable level on my own but more and more I’m finding that I like the way he makes me feel and working toward accepting that it’s okay to feel better with him beside me.  
 _[Are you awake?]_ I text him.  
His reply is immediate. _[Yep. Are you okay?]  
_ I hit the call icon and wait for him to answer. “I am okay, yeah. I’m perfectly fine... but I’d be better if you were here.”

 


	16. Processing

Buzz and I are spending almost every night together, now. This is going to be a problem at the end of next week when I have to leave to shoot a new film in Ireland, but for now I'm still getting excited when I wake up and she's sleeping beside me. She's been stable for over a month and we've fallen into a nice routine between her place and mine, fitting in work and dates in between. I know that can't last, either, but I'm going to enjoy it while I can. Going to the pool with Buzz and Alex has become regular routine when I stay over, even when she tries to convince me we should just get a workout in bed, because I read in her folder how good it is for her mental state. I reckon I could bench press her into oblivion but when it comes to swimming I'll happily let her take the trophy, I'm always tired long before she is.

Many times a day I think how beautiful she is, but in the water she is sublime beyond words. It's like she was born to glide effortlessly right on the surface, her elegant strokes pulling her through toward the opposite end while her legs propel her so smoothly there's barely any disturbance to the clear water. I could watch her for hours.   
“I was always jealous of her swimming,” Alex says quietly from my side. “She makes it look so easy.”  
“She sure does.”  
“Sebastian, I know I wasn't too welcoming in the beginning, but you're good for her. I guess the first day we met I thought you were just pandering to her every whim and encouraging her impulses but I know now that's not what happened.”  
“I love her, Alex. All of her, exactly how she comes. I want to be good for her and do all the right things, I want to show her I'm not going to walk away when it's not all holding hands and sex in shop fronts.”  
I look over at her when she laughs but there are tears welling in her eyes. “She let you hold her hand?”  
“Not in public. Hey, what's wrong?”  
“Everyone in her life has tried to fix her and left when she wouldn't let them. I don't think she ever expected to be loved unconditionally.”  
“How could you not?”  
“Because she's a lot to handle. She knows that, I know it, you know it. Her own parents didn't want to deal with her.”  
I sigh and shake my head. It makes my heart ache. “Can I ask you something without sounding totally self absorbed? Is me being away a lot going to be a problem?”  
“She's used to taking care of herself, that's why she has all of us. Just... maybe try not to judge anything she does while you're not around. Impulse control is a huge challenge for her.”   
“Alex, are you saying she might cheat?”  
“I'm saying she's not your average chick.”  
“If anything happens and you think I can help, promise you'll call me, okay? I'll come home.”  
“Of course.”

“What were you and Alex talking about?” Back in her shower, she rinses shampoo from her hair as I'm stepping into the water, my hands resting on her hips.   
“You,” I answer honestly. “Us.”  
I lather my hands with soap and spin her around, pressing her back against me while my hands roam her breasts and stomach. She melds into me like our bodies were made to fit together, the curve of her ass rubbing against my rapidly hardening cock. As my hand parts her thighs I kiss the side of her neck and growl in her ear.   
“You are so fucking sexy, Buzz.”  
She moans in response and rolls her pelvis against me, running her nails like a claw over my hip. After rinsing her off I raise her hands above her head and she flattens them against the tiles while I line up my cock with her heat and push slowly inside. Her heavy breath reverberates around the bathroom and she pushes back to force me deeper. Her fingers curl against the tiles, searching for purchase as I slap and splash against her. I reach one hand around and find the hard bud with the tips of my fingers, rubbing it in circles until her walls clamp down and squeeze my cock. As soon as I start panting she turns and jerks my cock with one hand and massages my balls with the other, kissing my neck until I feel the warm rush of cum on both of our stomachs.

When I open my eyes she's watching me intently with a soft smile on her lips.   
“I'm going to miss you,” she says before kissing my mouth.   
“I'm going to miss you too, babe. Maybe you could come over and visit me for a few days?”  
“We'll see. We're so flat working on this project at work I don't know if I'll be able to leave, but I can try.”  
“You love it, huh? Being so busy?”  
“Being occupied keeps me out of trouble. Always has.” She shrugs.   
I wonder if she actually knows how to stop, or what would happen if she did.

As the week passes I start to notice subtle changes in her behaviour, so tiny I wouldn't see them if I weren't spending so much time with her. Things like fidgeting, her hand tremors becoming more pronounced. She brushes it off when I bring it up but I wonder if I'm seeing the first signs of mania. Sitting across from her while she divides up her meds for the month I'm reminded of what I read in her folder about altering doses and how much she can have control over.   
“You saw Erica today, yeah?” I ask.  
“I did. Hence I am permitted to oversee my own drugs for this month.” She takes a handful of red ones and deposits them into the compartments, one in each morning.  
“What's the deal with the ones that can slow you down?”  
“The benzos or the anti-psychotic?”  
“Uhhhh... both.”  
“They're a bitch. Risperidone makes my hands shake worse than usual, it fucks with my period, makes me nauseous. The other kind of mellows me out I guess but I feel really out of it. Why?”  
“Well couldn't you just take them as soon as you know it's coming?”  
“It doesn't work that way, Sebastian. Look, I know you've noticed I'm not sleeping very well and I've been a bit cranky. I am aware that it's coming. I'm prepared.”  
“Oh, okay. I wasn't sure if... you know.”  
“You don't think I notice? You don't think I get a knot in my stomach when I can't stop playing with things and have trouble holding a glass without spilling it? Of course I know. The last two days Sabine has actually unplugged my keyboard because I refused to stop for lunch even though my head was pounding from staring at the screen so long.” She presses both hands against the bench and takes a deep breath.  
“So in your binder it says you can take them from the beginning and it might help.”  
“Have you seen the side effects that go along with it? Besides, I'm more productive and I know how to manage the mania. Let's not forgot I was in the middle of it when you met me and you sure as hell didn't mind it at the time.”  
I lean over and cover one of her hands with mine, deliberately lowering my voice. “I just worry about you having so little sleep and not taking care of yourself.”  
“Or are you worried I'll go pick up while you're gone?”  
I puff out the air in my lungs. “I'm not gonna lie to you, it's crossed my mind. But mostly I just want to be sure you're okay.”  
“Erica, Alex, and I have a deal about those meds, I'll take them after ten days.”  
“Why not just do it at the start, though?”  
“Because I like it,” she says as though she's talking about a strawberry milkshake. And then she looks... something. Scared, perhaps?  
“That's a good enough reason, I guess. I love you the way you are, Buzz. I don't want you to change for me, I just wondered if it might make things better for you.”  
“Thank you,” she says quietly. “I don't really expect you'll understand, but thank you for trusting me.”

Alex knows better than to knock on the door the next morning, we're way too occupied with other things to go swimming today. We spend most of the time committing the other's body to memory, every freckle and curve, the spots that always elicit the sweetest of moans. Climax after climax breaks over her body until sweat is beading on her forehead and her walls are pulling me in with their pulsating contractions, tipping me over the edge. We kiss long and deep while she drags her fingertips all over my body, and I smooth the damp hair back from her face when our lips finally part. I'm already growing steadily hard again with her touch and she starts to roll her hips against me, eager for another round. Her eyes are wide and dark, sparkling against her flushed skin as she stares up at me and clasps her hands behind my neck.   
“I love you, Sebastian.”  
I'm trying not to make a big deal of it because I promised not to, but my heart that was quietly racing along has just started thundering in my ears. “I love you too, baby. So fucking much.”  
This time I make love to her so slowly she's begging for release, and we find it together in a tangled mess of limbs. As I lie there with her limp in my arms, this is how I want to remember us while I'm gone. Sated and kind of lost for words.   
“I have to go, doll,” I whisper a while later.  
Buzz clings to my shoulders and wraps her legs around me, like a koala holding on to its mother at the top of a tree. “Five more minutes.”  
“Okay.” I tilt her chin up and meet her lips gently, licking at her swollen bottom lip and then slowly sliding my tongue into her mouth to glide against hers. When we break for air and I look at my watch again close to ten minutes have passed and I have to extract myself.

Wearing only a t-shirt she seems to have liberated from my drawer at some stage she leans her head against the door, her purple and blue hair in wild waves around her face. She pouts and bites her lip. “I'm gonna miss you,” she says with just a tiny crack in her voice.   
I wrap my arms around her and kiss her forehead. “I'll miss you too, Buzz. I'll call when I get there.”  
She nods and runs her fingertips down the stubble on my jaw. “I love you.”  
My mouth breaks into a wide smile. “I will never ever get tired of hearing that. I love you, too.”  
She keeps the door open a crack until I'm on the pavement, keeping her bare legs hidden from view. I know I should just walk and not turn around but I can feel her eyes on me, so when I turn and she's still watching me and wiping tears from her eyes it's without a second thought that I find myself bounding back up the steps to kiss her one last time.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Only a week in, she's trying to kill me.   
One morning out of the blue she sent me a photo of her tits, straight out of the shower. I was on my way back from makeup at the time and literally fell over a bright orange traffic cone. Oh god, the mortification. I wanted the ground to just swallow me up, not to mention my phone is all scratched up.   
“Doll, you can't do that to me. I've been hiding a boner all fucking day, it's killing me.”  
“Sorry, babe. It won't happen again.”  
“No... no, no... just maybe not first thing in the morning.” I laughed “I miss you. And I still have this raging boner.”  
“What are you gonna do about that?” she said, low and teasing.   
I knew exactly what I was gonna do about it, my hand was already on it, but I wasn't about to share that information. “I don't know, it will go away eventually.”  
“Aww, that's no fun. You just think it's inappropriate to tell me you're going to jerk off as soon as we're off the phone.”  
“Well, yeah,” I said with a laugh.  
“I don't mind, Sebastian. You know I have a well stocked toy drawer and the thought of you coming in your hand thinking about me is kind of making me wet.”  
“Well in that case, yes I will definitely be rubbing one out and thinking of you.” Why do I still blush when telling her that?  
“I'll be thinking of you too, babe.”

As the next few days pass I know her mood is changing, she's stuttering a little when talking to me and can barely stay still and in the frame when we Skype. I've tried not to think about it too much – she's made it this far without getting into too much trouble and Alex will be keeping a close eye on her – but the doubt slowly starts to eat at my insides.   
“Hey, beautiful girl,” I answer when she calls at the end of a long week, before pulling the phone back from my ear at the blast of music. “Whoa, where are you?”  
“Hanging out with Levi at _Shadowssss_ ,” she says, the effort to sound sober very obvious in her slow enunciation. “Having a good catch up.”  
My chest constricts and my stomach drops until I feel physically sick. “That's great,” I grind out. “Are you celebrating something or just letting off steam?”  
“Yeah, the stage two delivery was signed off today. Another few weeks and the j-job will be finished and into maintenance phase. They're... so impressed with our product they've already requested a p-pr-proposal for more sites.”  
“Congratulations, Buzz. I wish I was there to celebrate with you.”  
“Me too. So I thought I'd call and check in before it gets too late, but I'll talk to you tomorrow?”  
“Call me any time you want, okay? I mean that. If you're up at three and want a chat, pick up the phone. I'll be here.”  
“M'kay.” I hear the clink of ice as she brings the glass to her mouth. “Love you.”  
“I love you, too.”  
 _Please don't go home with someone else,_ I want to plead. _  
_When I said I'd understand, that I went into this with my eyes open, I never promised that it wouldn't break my heart. Thank god we're not working over the weekend, because I don't sleep a wink until long after the sun is up. Before I left we had a very open and honest conversation about what might happen while I was gone, on an intellectual level I understand that anything she might do while she's manic doesn't mean anything and she isn't trying to hurt me... but I love her. The thought of another man's hands on her has me tossing and turning at all hours, torturing myself with visions of her in bed with someone else. I wonder if she's ever been to _Shadows_ and not picked up? I wonder if she'd feel awful in the morning, or if what she told me in the beginning was true: _'I do shitty things, I don't always treat people right or consider consequences... You're too good a man to be treated that way.'_

For the first time it dawns on me that this might not actually work out, that my lifestyle and hers aren't going to mesh. I can't function with this level of anxiety, so if it's going to happen every time I'm away... It's not even about trust so much as accepting the way she is, I've read enough about other people's experiences with bipolar to know that it's practically out of her hands. I believe with every fibre of my being that she's deserving of all the love I have, but maybe I'm not the right man to do it. All I can do is will the days to pass quickly and hope it gets easier.

She calls at her usual time, startling me out of a light sleep.   
“Hi.” I rub my eyes and turn over.  
“Shit, did I wake you?”  
“Yes, but I'm glad you did. How are you feeling?”  
“Fine, why?” she chirrups.   
“Just checking. It's really good to hear from you.”  
She's quiet for a while and I start to wonder what's coming.   
“I miss you,” she says in a tiny voice. “I miss you so much.”  
All the tension drains out of my neck and shoulders. “I miss you too, babe. Fuck, I wish you were here. Only a couple more weeks.”  
“Yeah, I know.” Another minute of quiet, and then her voice is playful. “Hey babe, I'm naked and all alone.”  
“Mm? Cup your tits for me, just squeeze them real gently. Does that feel good?”  
“Yeah,” she breathes. “Mm, it does.”  
“Imagine I'm there... biting and sucking at them... my hands all over your smooth skin.”  
She moans softly. “Is your cock hard, baby?”  
My hand is already stroking my balls, feeling it grow. “Yeah... where do you want it?”  
“In my mouth, while you finger me.”  
I groan. “You're gonna be the death of me. Are you all good and wet? Your pussy all ready for me?”  
“Mmm hmm...” I can hear her breath grow deeper and it spurs me on as I stroke back and forth on my cock, coating my hand with pre-cum.  
A few minutes pass with only whimpers and heavy breathing, then I hear a low hum on the other end and can't hold back a chuckle.   
“You got toys? That's not fair.”  
“Peter's quite enjoying you being away.”  
My chest gets tight and I stop stroking. “Okay, who's Peter?”  
“The rabbit, you dummy.”  
Ah, yes. She names her sex toys, I'd completely forgotten since we don't use them together all that often. “Tell Peter not to get too comfy sharing your bed.”  
“Okay.” She giggles and then moans softly. “Fuck, I wish you were here.”  
“Me too, babe. God, I love hearing you moan, though. Don't hold back.”  
And so she doesn't, and every sound that comes out of that sweet little mouth pulls me closer to release. I close my eyes and just listen to her, imagine she's right beside me, and lose myself in her cries.  
“Oh, fuck... I'm gonna come...” her voice is strained and I can almost see her back arch off the bed.   
“Come for me, babe. Let me hear you.”  
Her moans herald her peak, and then for a few seconds there's near silence but for tiny shallow breaths... and that little contented sigh I so dearly love. With a grunt I spill onto my stomach, squeezing up and down gently until there's nothing left before catching my breath.

I call her again that night before I go to bed, after I've had a chance to collect myself and do some shopping.  
“I understand if you... if something happens because you're not thinking clearly. I don't want you to think I'll leave, okay?”  
“Sebastian, I have no idea... what you're talking about.” The rapid tap-dance of her fingers on the keyboard comes clearly through the phone, explaining her distracted state.   
“Can you stop typing for a minute? I know right now you have needs I'm not there to fulfil, and I've been worrying about it a lot. So if you cheat on me, if you sleep with anyone else... just be safe, okay? And maybe it's better if you don't tell me.”  
“Sebastian, I...” She clicks the laptop closed. “Is that what you think I was doing last night? Picking up?”  
“I'm gonna be away sometimes, and you might not be able to control the urge. If I have to overlook that stuff for us to be together, I'm just saying I can do that.”  
“You're giving me permission to s-sleep with another man?”  
“Yeah... if you need to.”  
“Okay,” she says quietly.   
“What are you doing?”  
“Working on something new. I'll tell you all about it next time.”  
“I love you, Buzz.”  
“I love you, Sebastian. I don't ever want to hurt you.”   
There's something in her voice I can't put my finger on, something that makes me want to get on a plane and go home.

Two more weeks, and I'll be home. Buzz will be back in my arms where she belongs and I won't have to worry... until next time I go away.

 


	17. Quench

Sometimes I make grand plans and then stop myself half way through, usually because I run into one of my strategically placed roadblocks: lack of available funds, my passport being locked away, not having enough meds for more than a couple of days.   
This isn't one of those occasions.  
My meds are under my control now, and I only have to pay for the return flight so this little trip is well within my allowance. So when my brand new passport arrived in the mail yesterday I might have tucked it away instead of giving it to Alex, although that act probably should have been a red flag. In my current state of mind red flags mean adventure, though.  
The only thing wrong with this particular escapade is having to be enclosed in an airplane for seven hours, sitting in a seat wanting to tear off my own skin. There's another two hours to go and I'm just barely keeping it together with my fingers flurrying so fast on my laptop that I'm fixing mistakes in almost every line, telling me I'm losing focus.   
Reluctantly closing the lid I look around for something else to occupy me. There's a fascinating book on medieval weaponry in my backpack but my eyes are in desperate need of a rest so instead I decide on a stiff drink and make pretty patterns on the napkin with my two packets of peanuts.   
When we arrive the combination of pent up energy and excitement has me practically bouncing around the airport and the dance I'm doing while I wait for my luggage probably looks like I'm desperate for a toilet, but I'm forced to slow down once I'm seated in a cab and the driver -- who legit sounds so much like a leprechaun he has to repeat his questions three times -- asks me where I'm going.  
Well, fuck. I know Sebastian is in a hotel, somewhere just outside Dublin. Apparently there are quite a few places that could be, covering a wider area than is feasible for me and a cabbie. And even if we did happen upon Sebastian's hotel, it's not like the front desk will tell me he's staying there.  
Once the cab has pulled away with someone else on board and a generous tip for his trouble I pace back and forth in an attempt to salvage the surprise. Cunning plans aren't really my thing, they usually fall to pieces after the first step because that's as far as I get, hence I'm here without a clue where I'm going or how to find out. I switch my phone on and it's flooded with messages from Sebastian, because we were supposed to talk at our usual time and I've missed it.   
[Sorry I've just got your messages. Where are you staying? I want to send something to you but I don't think you've told me which hotel you're at.]  
And I wait, and wait some more. Every second that ticks by I grow more anxious, realising what a stupid idea this was. How could I just come all this way when I don't know where he is? I could be at home getting things done for work and Alex has probably found my note by now and is furious I didn't call her first (because I knew she'd talk me out of it). At least she'd have told me to get all the information instead of just getting on the first flight --   
[What are you up to, sneaky girl?]  
Following his text is a Google maps link to his hotel, which I give to the next cab I settle into the back of.   
[You'll see ;) What are you doing?]  
[Just back at the hotel. How are you?]  
Perfect.  
This is not the Ireland I was expecting. I thought Ireland was full of green pastures and cows and sheep, it never really occurred to me that Sebastian's hotel might have a view of the sea.   
"Yer not stayin' loong, then? Travlin' loite fer a tourist."  
"Err, pardon?" I'm wired and I'm working so hard to understand him and be polite but that was total jibberish to my New Yorker ears.  
He laughs heartily. "New Yorker?"  
Now that I understand. "Yes. Just visiting for a few days." And finally, after replaying his voice in my head for the hundredth time, it unravels like a code I'm seeing for the first time. "I didn't pack very much because it was a last minute decision, maybe I'll stay a little longer than I planned. This is beautiful."  
"Aye, it is. Some Hollywood toipes be filmin' a movie 'round the coast a wey."  
I smile and nod, again replaying his words. "I can see why."  
He farewells me with a broad, boyish smile and I crunch through the gravel drive as I take in an enormous 1800s era hotel. I feel like I belong in a period drama on the BBC: the American who is as out of place here as Starbucks.   
"Wow," I whisper to myself in the reception area. I'm so taken by my surroundings that I don't see the group sitting on the terrace at first, drinking dark beer from tall glasses and talking animatedly the way only dramatic artists can.   
"Can I help you, miss?" a middle-aged man says from behind the desk.  
I turn on my most charming smile. "I hope so. There's a man sitting over there, his name is Sebastian and I'd like to surprise him."  
He frowns as though he's been warned about me quite specifically. "I'm afraid --"  
"Wait, hear me out. I'm Buzz, he knows me. I spoke to him on the phone a few minutes ago. If you could maybe tell him there's a delivery for him, that's what he's expecting."  
"I'm very sorry, miss. The hotel has been fully booked by the production company to ensure the privacy of their project, and we've been asked --"  
"Okay. Never mind."  
I pull out my phone and dial Sebastian's number, watching him stand and move away from the others to answer.  
"Hey," he says quietly, and even from here in side profile his smile makes my heart skip a beat.  
"Hey, um. Your delivery is at reception."  
"What did you do, Buzz?"  
I hang up and wait while he makes a few strides without looking up.   
He stops dead and opens his arms, his face beaming. Maybe this wasn't such a stupid idea.  
"Mr Stan, please allow me to apologise," the man says as I close the gap and Sebastian's arms wrap tight around me.  
"For what?" Sebastian looks down at me like I've pushed my way past armed guards to get in the door.   
"He was just doing his job, trying to protect you from your impulsive woman."  
"Oh, right." They share a laugh and a handshake before he kisses me soundly and studies my face, holding it in his hands. "I can't believe you're here. And you have rainbow hair, when did that happen?"  
"Couple of days ago."  
"Huh. You want to meet some people, or go straight to my room?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively but a few of his group have turned to stare at us so I guess the cat's out of the bag now anyway. "That's up to you. I can stay as long as you want."  
"Come meet them, then. They're starting to think you're a product of my imagination."  
I've sat with Sebastian's colleagues and been respectable, kept my legs together like mom always said I should and not allowed even one curse word to escape my lips, but when I see Sebastian's leg bouncing and the way he wipes his hands down his thighs every couple of minutes I've had enough. Demure and mild-mannered is not my natural state, hiding my stutter is using up the last of my energy and patience, and 90% of my reasoning for jumping on a flight was to spend at least twelve hours naked and rubbing our sensitive bits together.   
He empties his beer and sets the glass down, wiping his hands again before threading his fingers into mine and squeezing my hand gently, rubbing circles on the side of my hand with his thumb. I lean toward him and keep my voice low.   
"Within the next five minutes you're going to excuse both of us and take me to your room, or so help me I'll just climb on right here and ride you like a Tennessee Thoroughbred."  
With great satisfaction I smile as his face turns red and he coughs to clear his throat, standing and not-so-subtly adjusting the obvious erection in his jeans.  
"If you'll excuse us, my um... Buzz is pretty tired so we're gonna... yeah." He raises his index finger. "Upstairs."  
One of the other actors whose name I've already forgotten laughs and slaps Sebastian's ass. "We don't want to see you until Monday, lover boy!"  
If I weren't in such a hurry to get my hand inside his pants I imagine I'd find the lift operator a rather quaint and fascinating addition, but instead he's just another minor annoyance keeping me from getting off. Likewise the beautifully polished brass door handle, the gorgeous seaside view, and pretty well everything else between the terrace and the bed.  
Sebastian has me up against the wall before the door has properly latched, wrapping my legs around his hips as our mouths become thoroughly reacquainted.   
He carries me to the bed while I run my hands over his back, feel the muscles harden and flex beneath my fingertips. Kissing his neck I feel his pulse racing under my lips as he lays his body over mine, grinding his hips against me. Clothes are discarded carelessly in a matter of seconds and he laughs as I stumble to my bag for a condom, unwrapping it on my way back to the bed and straddling his thighs.  
Sebastian groans as I stroke his already oozing cock and then roll the condom down with a firm hand. I roll my hips over him, let him feel my swollen and dripping folds coat his shaft. As I position myself to take him inside he sits up and kisses my lips softly. I know how he likes to savour the moment and take his time, touch every inch of me with hands and mouth, tease and build me slowly so that when I come undone it's one of those orgasms that leaves me quivering and barely conscious; so I'm expecting some attempt to slow my advances. Instead he grits his teeth and pulls me down hard, sucking a nipple into his mouth as I grind my g-spot on the tip of his cock.   
"That's it beautiful girl. Fuck me. Use me. Come for me."  
I suddenly feel close to tears, and when his fingers squeeze my shoulders tears are threatening to spill onto my cheeks.   
"Doll?" His eyes have softened with concern and I've never felt so loved or in love than right in this moment.  
He gets it and he accepts it. Accepts me. That sometimes when my brain is out of control a good hard fuck and quick climax will slow it down, when I'm so hyped up I can barely stammer out my own name I don't have to explain myself any further, Sebastian already knows.  
I shake my head and take his face in both hands, crashing our mouths together and moaning into him as his pubic bone rubs so perfectly on my clit. Already my walls are tightening around him and he guides my hips back and forth, hard and fast as he looks down at our joined bodies and a ragged sigh escapes his lips.  
A gush of slick juices coats his groin as a strangled cry tears from my throat, expelled by the sudden climax that contracts every muscle down to my clutching fingers and curling toes. Sebastian kisses me deep and slow, filling my lungs while the convulsions subside, until I relax into him and he flips me like a rag doll onto my back.  
"I love y-you," I say softly as he re-aligns himself and pushes inside.   
"I love you too, baby doll. I'm so happy you're here."  
Now our movements are fluid and unhurried, lines traced with tongues and flesh kneaded with tender hands. The final orgasm drawn from me is a whitewater ride of ecstasy and the rhythmic spasms of my cunt tip Sebastian over the edge.  
"I can show you around a bit tomorrow if you like," he says later, drawing patterns on my back with light fingertips.  
"Maybe." I sigh.  
"Or we could just hang out here. Naked."  
I take his hand and bring his knuckles to my lips. "I like that idea better."  
"Me too. I love you so much, Buzz."  
"I'm starting to think we could really be together, y'know? Like this might last and I can trust you with all of my shit."  
"You can." He guides me onto my back so we're face to face. "There's nothing you could do that would make me run, nothing you could ask of me that would be too much. And I'll never stop reminding you of that."  
The way he looks at me is enough. God knows why or how, but he loves me the way I am, whether it's a high day or a low day or whatever degree in between. How I am, where I am. Who I am.   
Just before dawn the sun is yawning out the first hints of light so that I can make out the details of Sebastian's face as he sleeps. There's a tiny upward tug at the corner of his lips, as though any second he will open his eyes, telling me he's been awake the entire time I was watching him. I've been working for a couple of hours but I can't bear to disturb him, even in the gentle way I'd normally just press my naked body against him and wait for his instinct to take over.   
As a kid at our local pool I used to love to sit on the bottom of the deep end, challenge myself as to how long I could stay until I had to surface for air. My lungs would burn and scream and feel as though they would explode, my heart would race and the blood would rush so loud in my ears... it was my happy place. Sometimes as I pushed off hard with my legs there would be spots in front of my eyes and the rush of oxygen to my brain with that first breath would always make me giddy, I'd never felt so alive and I was always striving to replicate that sensation.  
Just like I didn't know until years later that I could get a similar feeling during an orgasm, I didn't believe until recently that there might be an emotional equivalent. My fingers automatically reach out and stroke lightly down his cheek and he stirs just long enough for the light to dance like sapphires in his blue eyes before he smiles and rolls toward me, closing his eyes again and opening his arms.  
"C'mere," he slurs.   
Sebastian takes me into his arms and inhales against my hair, kissing the side of my neck as his breath deepens with slumber, and as I surrender into the security of his embrace I feel the same giddiness and rush of oxygen. All at once I'm overwhelmed: I want to laugh and cry; I feel sleepy as a newborn with a belly full of warm milk and yet wide awake like I don't want to miss even a second of the day; and it's better than any drug or fleeting adrenaline rush.  
"I love you," I whisper into the near-dark. It seems an entirely inadequate description of the feeling, but pretty words were never my forte.


	18. Roseate

**Sebastian**  
"Fuck, I'm sorry. Can we go again?" I sigh. This is my catchphrase for the day, and it's sure as hell not in the script.   
"How about we take a ten minute break?" the director says, giving me a pointed look.    
"Thanks, I'll use it wisely," I mumble. In other words, I will not spend this time fucking my girlfriend in my trailer like I did yesterday. In my defence, he should have warned me if he wanted to talk to me during lunch.  
Having Buzz here is... complicated. I love that she's right here and I can see her every day, there's no missing her like I was before, but through no fault of her own she's proving to be a distraction. As best I could I anticipated this and was ready for it, when she watches me work she gets this sort of hyper-focused frown and then a proud smile when we get it right. What I wasn't prepared for is the protective anger I feel when other people give her 'that' look.   
  
I know what they're thinking, and I'm used to her being seen that way because although she's immune to it most of the time it happens whenever she's manic and has to be out in public. No point sugar coating it, we both know it, she looks like your stereotypical junkie. The piercings in her face, her tattoos peeking out, the dark circles and hollow eyes... that's before she even begins with the uncomfortable fidgeting, slurred speech, and stuttering. I want to stick a neon sign above her head that reminds people not to judge, because it makes me fucking angry the way they watch her like they 'know' what kind of woman she is. They have no idea what she deals with and how absolutely amazing she is, they just see the external effects. And yet, if they met her when she's between episodes and dressed in a suit they'd give her the same respect she rightfully has from her employees and associates.   
  
I can't be trying to explain for her -- not that I should have to, they should give her a chance to show how intelligent and worthy of their time she truly is -- but the distraction of me watching everyone else watching Buzz is beginning to cause a problem.     
"Are you doing okay, doll?" I ask as I walk her back to my trailer. "You seem extra fidgety today."    
"You know how I am, how I get." She frowns down at her fingers as she curls them all over each other and then releases, repeating with the other hand. Freezing mid-motion she looks up with wide eyes. "Oh, god... Is it me? Am I distracting you? It's me, isn't it?"    
"Not anything you're doing, I'm just finding it difficult to concentrate when my beautiful girlfriend is right there."    
"I'm sorry, I didn't realise. I can stay here for a while and do some work if that helps, I brought my laptop. Or I can get a cab back to the hotel."    
"Here is fine. It's not anything you're doing, I just can't seem to keep my eyes off you."  
  
The next day she happily stays behind at the hotel but when I return I can see something is wrong.    
"They hate me, don't they?" she asks as I kiss the corner of her mouth.  
"Who?"    
"Everyone. They think I'm not good enough for you."    
"Buzz, no one thinks that, and I wouldn't give a shit if they did."    
"But I saw the way... the way they st-stare at me. And then you hid me away in... your trailer. You hide me in your room." Her lip begins to tremble and her hands are balled into tight fists. "You didn't want to hang out with everyone else yesterday when we got back."    
I scoff and pull her toward me by the waist. "That's because I wanted your clothes off, I'd been watching you all day and then you started talking about blow jobs on the way home --"    
"This isn't a joke!" she shrieks, turning away from me to press her knuckles into the window sill.   
"I know it's not, I'm sorry." I move in slowly, waiting to be sure she isn't going to break my arms before wrapping them around her. "Hey, I love you."    
She lets her head rest back against me, tears freely flowing down her cheeks. "Why?"    
"Why do I love you?"    
"You should be with someone who... who you're proud to have on set. I know the impression people get, I see it in their faces."    
This is like a knife in the guts, because part of it is true, but having her think I'm not proud of her knocks the air from my lungs.    
"Buzz, I could never be ashamed to love you, or be seen with you. I see how you struggle, when things are good and you know the next low or high is only a matter of time. I've seen the fear in your eyes when you first feel it coming, and I've seen that last tiny spark when things were really bad and you wanted to give up. That spark is why. Why I love you. It makes you keep going when you don't think you can, makes you take your meds and follow your plan even while your own mind is telling you to just surrender and get it over with. It's the part of you that enjoys the highs and makes no apologies about it, that refuses to be sedated just to fit in. And it's the little fighter that keeps pushing on through the good times, using them to grow a successful business even though your own parents didn't believe in you."    
She turns in my arms and rests her head on my chest with a shaking, snuffling breath.    
"The reason I was distracted yesterday is because I wished everyone could see you the way I do, I hate the idea that they're making assumptions about you when they have no idea how incredible you are. But you know what? I don't care what they think, you're more than capable of handling yourself, and you've never cared what other people thought of you before. If you ever think I'm hiding you then please, call me out on it."    
For a minute or so she's silent but for hiccoughing breaths. "I don't like this feeling," she says quietly.    
"What feeling is that?"    
"It's like... I'm just waiting for the bomb to go off. Sooner or later, you'll realise I'm not worth the trouble. You'll get tired of me tarn... tarnishing your image or be reminded how harshly you're judged just for having me in your life. You won't d-do it lightly and it will break your heart, but you'll be better for it. It will break me... break my heart, too, and you'll worry about me, you'll remember the biggest reason you didn't walk away sooner was that you promised not to, you knew it would destroy me..." She draws a slow breath and squares her shoulders, summoning whatever strength she has left for the well-practised defence of detachment. "You needn't worry about me, by the way. I'd be fine."    
"Ok, just... stop. I can't tell you how things will work out, neither of us know that. But I'll tell you this, I will never just decide you're not worth the trouble or worry about other people's opinion. Never. I wish with all my heart I could promise you we'll always love each other and be together, take away the uncertainty of it so you can just enjoy what we have now, but I can't. Just know that I love you and will not ever let anyone else change that."    
"I know you do," she whispers, sniffling against my chest. "I fucking hate this... this... neediness."    
"That's part of giving your heart away, darlin."    
"Well I don't like it."    
I swallow a laugh. "I know. You'll just have to let me show you its worth it. Repeatedly." I tilt her head up and kiss her nose. "Frequently." Press my lips against hers and flick my tongue lightly at the seam. "Softly, slowly, hard and fast, and everything in between."    
I feel her smile as I nip at her jaw and pull her hips against mine, a sigh escaping her lips as she relaxes into me.    
"I've got you, doll. Always."    
With a light tug on her hand I lead her to the bed, undressing her slowly and worshipping her body with my mouth and hands. Once we're both naked I return my lips to her breasts and part her legs with my thigh, growling as she grinds her soaked pussy against me.    
"I fucking love when you rub all over my thigh."     
I work my way around both tits and her neck while her hips move faster and her breath catches in her throat, her nails clawing at my back.    
"Mm... gonna come... fuck."    
Her back arches off the bed, her legs straight and stiff and the muscles and veins in her neck straining up against my lips. She's silent but for tiny shallow breaths, and then my thigh is soaked in warmth as she lets out a primal groan and melts into the bed.     
I kiss her deeply while she comes back to life, then roll her onto her stomach and slide into her slick heat. As if I was ever going to last long after that, the mesmerising ripple of her ass as I slap against it and the way she stretches up like a cat to push back against me... I think if I last more than three minutes I deserve a medal.  
  
Later as we lay tangled together I tell her what I love about every inch of her body. I explain how the sun, moon, and stars on her wrist mean something to me.    
"You've never told me if it has significance, but I like to think it's a reminder. For me it prompts me to be patient, look for the stars and moon in the dark and remember that the sun will always rise again. One day I hope it will remind me to be the moon for you, when you can't see your way out of the dark."     
She smiles and kisses me, she doesn't want to say it out loud -- she never wants someone else to be her way out.     
"The phoenix isn't about rising from the ashes to me, it's about not keeping you caged. You're beautiful inside and out and the whole world should know about it."    
Eventually I move on to the mermaid, the legend that surrounds their darker side and the tales of sirens at sea, the roses and thorns, until we've covered every inch of skin and she knows I've noticed the way she rubs her pinkie toe on top of the one beside it when she's anxious, or the piercing in her ear that she plays with when she's trying to keep it together in public.     
"These..." I tweak both of the bars in her nipples "are pure kinky vixen who likes a bit of pain with her pleasure, and loves the feel of the titanium on my teeth."    
Buzz laughs and the flush in her cheeks deepens then I hear the unmistakeable rumble of her empty belly, the one that happens when she's forgotten to eat.    
"Can we just have room service tonight? I don't fancy getting dressed," she says, rolling onto her stomach and propping her chin in one hand.    
"If you promise to come back to the set tomorrow. I missed you today."    
"I'll only distract you again."    
"That's my problem to sort out, doll. And I will. Please?"    
She nods and pulls the menu from the bedside table, and I wonder how the hell I'm actually going to pull that off.  
  
When I wander back from the gym the following morning she's not in our room, but it's only a few minutes later she joins me in the shower, stripping off her swimsuit on the way.    
"Excuse me," I laugh, covering my crotch. "Do I know you?"    
"You're about to," she says before kissing me hard and letting me hold her arms up against the wall.     
By the time our lips part my cock is hard and her leg is wrapped around my hip, pulling me toward her. She takes it in her hand and strokes back and forth as she guides it to her opening, gasping as I push all the way in without warning.    
"Ahhh, now I remember you."    
Buzz feigns offence but it's quickly overtaken by soft moans as I pull out and slam back into her, setting a punishing pace with my thrusts. It's urgent and efficient, her fingers thrumming hard on her clit as mine dig in to her ass, her cries growing louder until her cunt fires off those delicious squeezes and milks my cum inside her.   
  
I'm dropped from my high like a stone when I feel my seed oozing out, dripping from her as I withdraw.     
"Shit. You're um... on some sort of birth control, yes?"    
"Yeah." She laughs. "A little late if I'm not, huh?"    
  
Today I'm determined to show Buzz -- and everyone else -- how proud I am to have her around. From the moment we exit the car I have hold of her hand, she spends a bit of time talking with my makeup artist and she sits in my chair while I work. Between takes I give her a wink or a smile, one just for her, and deliberately ignore what everyone who isn't part of the scene is doing. Already she's more relaxed, a fair amount of the time she's not actually watching me but concentrating on something in her hands that looks a bit like a star-shaped Rubik's cube. She disappears a little while before lunch and when I find her she's sitting in the sun near my trailer with a notebook and her earphones in. When I approach she holds up a finger and shows me her phone.    
"Leave it with me, I can definitely work something out for you. I can send the mockups in a couple of days... no no I'm not on holiday, I'm working while I'm here... I'll get a proposal to you in a few hours... Bye."    
I hold out my hand to help her up off the grass as she tugs the buds from her ears. "Everything ok?"    
"Yeah, just work. Lunch time?"    
I nod and she slings her bag over her shoulder, lacing her fingers into mine as I lead the way.    
"You were better focused today, I'm really glad. I love watching you work, it's like my Sebastian disappears for a while."    
"I am. I accepted the fact that I don't have to defend your honour or be angry on your behalf."    
I hand her a cardboard lunch box and we sit at a table with a couple of actors I was working with this morning. "What were you playing with while you were watching?"    
She pulls a multicoloured star-shaped puzzle from her bag and hands it to me. "It's an Eitan's star."    
It's like a Rubik's cube, as I thought, but with more corners and smaller divisions.    
"It's a puzzle, right?"    
"Yeah, with 20 faces."    
"Have you solved this?" I ask incredulously, turning it around in my hands but not daring to move any of the jumbled colours.    
"A few times, yeah. I was just mixing it all up again this morning, gives me something to do with my hands."    
I can see why she finds it so calming, though I'd hardly find solving it theraputic. I think I'd need therapy when I was done!    
"Can I see?" Nathan asks from across the table.    
Buzz nods and I toss it to him, we both watch while he twists a few sections and then hands it back to her with a laugh.     
"No fucking way. How long did it take you? Did you cheat?"    
"Nah, it's just process and patterns. It usually takes me a couple of days if I don't give it my full attention. And no, I hate the idea of looking up the solution before I've done it myself."    
"You don't just do it in five moves and post it to Youtube then?"    
"No." She laughs and turns back to me. "That was the guy from the IOC on the phone, they want some apps to integrate with the software I built."    
"Already? I thought that was a year down the track?"    
"They've decided to roll it out slowly rather than all at once."    
"They must be happy with what you did."    
Buzz nods proudly. "We worked so hard on it, Sabine is looking into some options to treat everyone as a thank you."  
"What do you do, Buzz?" Nathan asks.    
"I design software," she says slowly. "My company does."    
"She does most of the coding herself," I interject.    
"Some of it," she corrects with a grin.   
"Anything I'd know?"    
"Tinder actually use a product I wrote for them for their help... help desk. Same with Spotify and SkyScan... SkyScanner."    
"Please tell me that's how you met Sebastian, some ridiculous story about him not getting any hits on Tinder?"    
She laughs that melodic laugh again. "Nothing that exciting, no. Sorry."    
  
The next few days she is almost permanently at my side, whether we're on set or out for dinner. No one else sees the little things she does to keep herself in check, and I can see the lack of sleep is starting to affect her, but she's so happy and getting to know everyone I just want us both to enjoy it. When the stuttering gets so bad she doesn't want to talk I know it's time to make some gentle suggestions, though.     
"It's totally up to you, I'm not going to push it, but your body needs sleep."    
"Yeah. I know."    
That was way too easy. "Really?"    
"I'm t-tired." She pulls a pack of tablets from her bag and sits down on the bed after swallowing two. "They're gonna knock m-me out, though."    
"I know, doll. I'll be here until you wake up." I pull her into my arms and stroke her hair until her eyes fall closed.    
"Always?" she asks sleepily, her voice tiny as she curls into me.     
"Always."  



	19. Solicitude

**Buzz**  
 _I study the lines of reinforcement wire in the glass panel, tracing slowly down each one with my pinkie finger. 33 lines down, 57 cutting across. 1,792 full squares in total, ignoring the partial open-ended boxes at each end. Someone did a terrible job fitting the glass into the door and the lines aren't parallel to the frame. One of the many things about this sterile room that makes me want to scream._ _  
Sometimes I wonder about shattering the glass and slicing myself with it. Sure the reinforcement is good for preventing escape, but the glass would probably still fracture with some good sharp edges. At least it might get me out for a bit. Of course, then I'd be back for even longer. I doubt I'd be able to slit my own wrists effectively before someone arrived, even if I did it during shift change or dinner break. The frosted glass distorts the hallway so that I have to strain my eyes to make out what's going on, but the old building lets the sound travel easily around the ill-fitted doors. Either way I'd know nurse Ruby, short and a little round, black skin making an easily-identified contrast with her pale blue scrubs, the beads in her braids clacking together soothingly as she moves down the hall from door to identical door.  
Why do psychiatric nurses wear scrubs? I asked her once. She shrugged and handed me a cup of meds - candy pink, bright blue, and a boring white. I wonder if they make them bright colours to appeal to paediatric patients like me, or if it's just so they stand out against your tongue. Come to think of it, I wonder if the blue one makes my tongue blue like those lollipops do? I'm not allowed a mirror and I doubt my window would reflect colour well enough to see. Perhaps I'll still have them when I go home and I can find out.   
"Same reason you do, honey. Easier to wash."  
"It's not like you're in a surgical environment and going to get covered in blood, though," I challenged, looking down at my own white pajama-like ensemble. Better than a hospital gown, at least.  
"No." She laughed. "I'm in a psychiatric environment where I get every bodily fluid you can imagine. You name it, child, I had it sprayed on me, smeared on me, spat on me."  
Gross. Ruby pulled out a clipboard and pen, making a few marks before studying my face.  
"And how is miss Jubilee feeling today?"  
"Never been better."  
"Mmm hm. Lemme check the 'will lie to go home' box. You're up, used the bathroom, seem lucid enough. Any thoughts of self harm or suicide?"  
"Nope."  
"Did you sleep?"  
"Like a sedated baby."  
"Open," she said as I washed down the tablets, inspecting my mouth. "Good girl. Doc will be seeing you this afternoon." She used the key attached to her waistband to unlock the door.   
"Ruby?" I asked, waiting until she turned back to me. "Can I call my mom?"  
"Buzz, we've been over this. They surrendered you. This is where you live, now."  
"No... no, please."  
Suddenly mom, dad, and my brother Dax stood just outside the door as it started to close.   
"We're sorry, honey. It's just... You're not worth it. You can't expect us to love you, can you? Deep down you know you're nothing. Worthless. Just break the glass and be done with it."  
"Please... I'll be better. I'll take the medicine and I won't hurt myself. I'll go back to school, just... NO!" I pounded on the door as it closed, again and again until my knuckles bled. The three of them linked arms as their distorted silhouettes disappeared around the corner.  
"Buzz," the doctor said from the other side. "Stop or we'll get the injection. Stop it."  
I screamed and punched the glass again and again until it splintered and broke into pieces. 1,792 of them, round, smooth spheres that just rolled in my hands and skittered away when I tried to pick them up.  
"Buzz!"_  
  
"Buzz, hey. Shhhh it's okay. Wake up, you're safe."  
"No," I sob. "No, not the needle."  
"What... no, baby. It's me. Sebastian."  
No, my doctor's name is Parker. "Please don't make me stay."  
The arms that were holding me tight suddenly release and I stop struggling to draw a breath while gentle fingers stroke sticky hair from my forehead. I'm vaguely aware of everything tipping on its axis, knowing that something isn't right. I need to breathe but I don't know which way is up and I'm trying to swim through tar.  
And then, with that nauseating feeling that reminds me of the ships in Star Wars coming out of hyperspace, it all comes back with blinding force. I reach out for Sebastian and he pulls me into his chest, pressing a kiss to my temple.   
"Shit... I'm sorry."  
"It's ok, I was kind of ready for it this time. Let it out if you need to, I've got you."  
I cry against him until there are no tears left and my head aches, taking a handful of tissues from the box he holds out for me.   
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks gently.  
I shake my head. I know one day I owe it to him, to explain the whole thing in great detail, but that day is not today.  
  
He brings me coffee in bed and it helps take the edge off the grogginess. "I have a late start today," he says. "I wish I could have taken the whole day."  
"You didn't have to do that. Thank you, though."  
"I promised I'd be here. I do have to go when you're ready but I'll be back at the usual time."  
I lean in and kiss his moist lips. "I'm ok. Go."  
  
~ _*~*_ ~ _*~*_ ~ _*~*_ ~ _*~*_ ~ _*~*_ ~ _*~*_ ~ _*~_  
  
Three weeks later, we're both back in New York and I've slowed down enough to really consider the events of Ireland. I missed two appointments with Erica while we were away so I have to catch up with her as soon as we return.   
"Sebastian makes me want to do better." I say with a frown.  
"Is that a problem?"  
"Well, I always said I wouldn't change for anyone. Didn't we do all that work on self worth so I'd believe I deserve love just the way I am?"  
"Yes, we did. And I think he does love you as you are."  
"He does, but I wonder if our relationship would be easier on both of us if I were more... normal. Is it ok for me to want that?"  
"Look at it like this. Some women go out clubbing every second night and have a very free life when they're younger and single, but it's normal for our lifestyle to change a little over time. Whether that's growing older or moving in to a long term relationship, our needs and wants can both kind of evolve. That's perfectly ok. What exactly are you thinking about?"  
"I took the risperidone while I was away for a few days and it kind of leveled out the mania, I'm thinking about taking it earlier. When the symptoms start. Just as a trial to see if my brain suffers. If I stop having brilliant ideas it's not gonna work."  
"That's quite a common thing for people your age, the mania kind of takes its toll on your body as well. It should lessen that hangover period, too. It sounds like things are going really well."  
"They are. I'm still waiting for something to happen and make him leave, but he's seen so much already."  
"That fear will fade with time. The longer he stays and proves his commitment the less anxious you'll be."  
"I hope so."  
  
I generally know my own mind pretty well and recognise all of the subtle changes leading up to days like today, but sometimes it just hits me like a rogue wave when I wake up. With a sigh I turn away from both Sebastian and the window, the glaring sun waking me too early. He snuggles into me from behind and I gently avert his hands from their light stroking, pulling his arms tight and still around me.   
"Good morning," he rumbles, deep and gravelly.   
"Morning," I murmur, closing my eyes and hoping for more sleep.   
I feel him get up a few minutes later and just as I'm dozing back off he sits down beside me.   
"Alex is waiting for you, doll."  
I shake my head. "Not today. Too tired."  
"Buzz, it makes you feel better. What can I do to help you get up?"  
"You can leave me alone," I grumble. "And tell Alex not today."  
There are hushed voices and then Sebastian's padded footsteps back and forth in the kitchen, while I grow increasingly frustrated that I just wanted more sleep and now I can't.   
  
He sits beside me, mug in hand. "I don't... I don't know what to do, doll. Stay? Go? You're gonna have to tell me."  
"Go, if you want. There's nothing you can do."  
"You have an appointment today, do you want me to call them?"  
Psychiatrists don't take kindly to being told you're not up to seeing them. Last time I skipped out on an appointment with him it earned me a lecture, him insisting that was the most important time for me to see him, and if I didn't get myself there the following day he'd send an ambulance.   
"No." I open my eyes and let him pull me upright. "I'm up."  
Sebastian's eyes brighten. "I'll get you a coffee and some breakfast? Or are you going swimming with Alex?"  
As I lean in to him the rich aroma of coffee hits my nose and I'm about to say 'yes please' when my stomach lurches, setting off a queasiness that hangs around the rest of the day.   
  
On the other side of town I see a psychiatrist -- Doctor West -- once or twice a year, which is more than enough. Alex got me in to see him when I moved here and while he has a fantastic reputation for treating disorders like mine his bedside manner doesn't share the same positive reviews. That wouldn't really bother me, but he's always trying to push more meds on me and he hasn't ever agreed with my approach, though he goes along with it. He'd prefer me on a cycle of uppers and downers and stabilisers that turned me into a dopey automaton, because I'd be successfully 'treated' and no longer symptomatic. I, on the other hand, can't think of anything worse. There are lots of things I hate about my bipolar, but having that burst of productivity and out of the box ideas is what makes my business successful. Still, he knows his stuff, and is apparently the best with getting the mix right which is what I need right now. Doctor West listens to my suggestions, interjecting with a metered 'mm hm' at the appropriate times before we agree on a plan of attack. He alters the doses and timings of my medication with the hope of giving me more 'normal' days than up or down but he also warns me the transition might be tough.   
  
He wasn't exaggerating.   
The four weeks since have been hell. I'm so tired I can sleep a few hours during the day and still be exhausted by early evening; chronic queasiness has settled in so I hardly eat; and when I do it's anyone's guess whether it will stay down. Last night my joints ached so badly I cried in Sebastian's lap, because although mentally I feel like things are improving I'm physically unable to enjoy it. Today Alex has drawn the short straw while Sebastian has work to do at home, not that I need a babysitter. I am glad she's here, I feel like we haven't spent enough time together in a while.   
"You're probably enjoying it like a holiday," I say with a weak laugh, sipping a cup of sweet tea.   
"Never. I love knowing you're being taken care of, though. And taking care of yourself. Sebastian has been really good for you."  
I still have days where I know he will eventually leave and it frightens me to the point where I want to run away before he has the opportunity, but they're getting fewer and further between. Sebastian loves me and I'm learning to believe it. "He's been... amazing."  
A particularly violent tremor in my arm spills tea all over my shirt and I groan in frustration because instead of improving the side effects are steadily getting worse.   
"Call the doctor," Alex says. "Now. This isn't normal."  
  
I'm referred to the emergency room for blood tests, but he's still confident the side effects will fade. Alex on the other hand insists on taking me and staying for the results, refusing to listen to my protests. So we wait. Hours pass, they bring me some anti-nausea wafers and I sleep for most of it, and then a doctor who didn't look enthused about running the tests in the first place wanders in rather reluctantly. I have to sit up or my eyes will just droop closed again.  
"Your lithium is at the higher end of normal but within tolerance and kidney function is within normal limits, I've spoken with your doctor and he wants you to have repeat bloods in one week." He hands me a form and then wrings his hands like he's about to tell me I have cancer. "There is something else, though."  
Alex, who was packing away her book and gathering her coat, sits back down. "What is it?"  
"We may want to talk about this in private," the young doctor says to me, as though we're in on some sort of terrible conspiracy.   
"It's fine, Alex can stay."  
"Ok, well... you're pregnant."  
  
I've never felt more in tune with a computer, with my eyes cobalt blue and an error code displayed in white writing. Alex babbles about Lithium and birth defects and why wasn't I taking my birth control and how could he just drop that news without any warning...  Perhaps this is what an out of body experience feels like. Being out of my body wouldn't be a bad thing right now. I should be angry or crying or... something. But there's nothing. Intellectual acceptance, I guess. I know what pregnant means, I know what it means for me specifically and what must inevitably follow, but there's no more emotional connection than if he'd said my appendix was problematic. Perhaps I've been on mood stabilisers for too long to feel anything.   
  
Alex is crying. I must have undergone some sort of reboot because the doctor is gone and she's perched on the edge of my bed, swiping at the tears that spill onto her cheeks.  
"It's ok," I tell her mechanically.  
She smiles but her forehead wrinkles with the effort and she seems to have aged twenty years since this morning. Before she can say anything a woman slips through the curtain and pulls the chair over to the side of the bed.   
"Jubilee, I'm Alisha, one of the OBGYNs. I'd like to take you up to obstetrics and get a sonogram."  
"Why?" I ask. "I can't... with the drugs I take the risk is too high to keep it."  
"How about we get some pictures and go from there? We might even be able to see if there are any effects and give you a more accurate idea of the risks."  
"I can barely take care of myself, I'm not... How could this happen when I'm on birth control?"  
"Unfortunately nothing is 100%, there's always a tiny chance."  
Alex squeezes my hand. "Let's go have the tests and then decide."  
"N-no." I shake my head. "I just want to go home. I'm so t-tired."  
"All right," Alisha says gently. "If I discharge you will you come back for an outpatient appointment tomorrow?"  
I nod. "Thank you."  
  
Alex is worrying quite enough for the both of us, so much she's making me anxious. As soon as we're home I sink into a scalding hot bath, relishing the prickles as my skin reddens and the heat spreads through me, relaxing and soothing the aches that now run all the way to the ends of my fingers and toes.   
And my phone rings.   
Sebastian is among the tight circle of people whose calls I don't ignore, and even though I really want to let it go to voicemail I know he'll call Alex if I do.   
"I'm just about to head over," he says cheerfully. "Can I bring you something for dinner."  
Bless him, he's been tempting me with all of my favourite foods just so I'll eat something. I draw a deep breath to steady my voice.   
"Actually I'm getting ready to go to bed. We went to the hospital today to make sure everything is ok and I'm fine but I'm exhausted."  
"Doll, why didn't you call me?"  
"Alex was with me and everything is fine. It's just side effects and they'll settle down soon."  
"I'll be there in --"  
"No." I cut him off. "I need to be alone."  
"Buzz, I'll just --"  
"Please..." I swallow a sob and bite down hard on my lip, because all I want is to be in his arms where everything is better.  
"Ok." He sighs. "Promise you'll call if you need me? Even if you just want a cuddle?"  
"I promise. I love you."  
"I love you, too."  
He hangs up and my heart breaks. Because I do need him, but he couldn't possibly understand. How do you tell the man you love you're can't keep his baby?

 


	20. Tribulations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Trigger warnings for unplanned pregnancy, abortion, self harm, drug overdose, anxiety, panic attacks, infertility

**Sebastian**

As soon as Alex picks up I'm grabbing my coat and wallet and on the way out the door, she sounds so shaky and just... broken. A lot like Buzz sounded, only for something to rattle Alex this much it's more than just side effects.   
"What's going on, Alex? I need to know."   
"Sebastian, I can't... she's fine. I promise I would let you know if you could do anything to help, but you can't. She just needs to get through the next few days."   
"Are you with her right now?"   
"No, she asked to be alone for a bit, I think she just needs to sleep it off. I'll check on her over night, please don't worry. There aren't many times I'd tell you to stay away but you have to respect her request and give it a few days."   
I sigh and set down my keys. "You sound like shit, Alex."   
"It was a long day, that's all. I was worried about her too, until the tests came back. I'll take care of her, you know I will."   
"You have Hugh taking care of you?"   
"Yeah, I do. Thank you for checking, you're so thoughtful. I never thought she'd find anyone like you." She takes a loud, shaking breath and blows it out slowly, like she's trying not to cry. Or vomit. Maybe both. "I have to go, if anything changes I'll call you. I promise."   
I have to accept that, I doubt my barging in there and demanding she let me comfort her will help.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I have to respect her wishes. It's playing over and over in my mind and has been for five days. I've forced back the urge to call her a hundred times, made myself go in the opposite direction when I wanted to run to her apartment, and limited all text messages to twice a day in the morning and evening. Except for that once, two days ago, when she replied a few times and I got a little over-eager. Then the silence returned and I realised I'd probably pushed too hard. Somewhere in my head there's a needy teenage boy, fresh out of puberty, who's whining something about me having needs too and begging for the validation of our relationship. Mostly I've shut him up with vigorous exercise but it's getting more and more difficult. She's sick, I knew this going in, and I need to give her space when she requests it. It's fucking hard, I'm not gonna lie. It's different to having physical distance between us, at least then I can still somehow communicate with her every day and I don't have to hold back. This is like putting a muzzle on your feelings, or pouring them into a jar for later. I expect that's akin to putting ripe fruit in a plastic bag in the bottom of your closet.

It's not relief that washes over me when the phone finally rings, but fear and panic. Because it's Alex calling me and not Buzz.   
"What's wrong?" I snap.   
I immediately regret the harsh edge to my voice when I hear her hiccup as she tries to speak.   
"We're at the hospital, I think you need to be here."   
I don't actually remember getting here, whether I paid the cab the right amount or at all, or how I found myself catching my breath beneath a huge 'Intensive Care Unit - No Unathorised Access' sign, but Alex and I instinctively hold each other while I wait for her to be able to form sentences.   
"She... her heart rate and blood pressure went all wrong, and when they brought her here she was unconscious. They don't really know what's wrong but it's probably the medication."   
"Is she gonna be okay? Can I see her?"   
"She's stable right now but pretty out of it, they had to stop her meds and see what happens. I'll make sure you get in but we may have to exaggerate your relationship."   
"I don't care if I have to lose an arm, I need to see her." She leaves me for a while to go back in and check with the nurses, and when she returns she looks just a little less broken than before. "You're fine to go in, I'll go get us some coffee."

As I pass a couple of other patients I steel myself for what state Buzz might be in, expecting ventilators and machines and for her to look quite lifeless. In fact she looks peaceful, like she could just be asleep in bed except for the IV and monitor. She doesn't stir when I tentatively sweep the hair back from her face and kiss her forehead but her hand twitches when I take it in both of mine and sit down beside her.   
"Please be okay, precious girl," I whisper with her finger against my lips.   
Her eyes flutter but don't open and for a long time I just listen to her steady breath. I'm used to hospital wards being noisy with the chatter of visitors and patients, staff bustling about and the odd call alarm, but here the footsteps are barely a whisper on the shiny floor and even the hushed tones of the nurses are easy to make out. Buzz turns to her side and though her eyes open briefly she seems to look right through me before pulling her knees up to her chest. I tug the extra blanket up over her body and she reaches her hand back out to me.   
"Sebastian." Her voice is strained like she hasn't spoken in months and her mouth seems to struggle to shape my name.   
"I'm here." I squeeze her hand and kiss her knuckles, watching her face droop again in drug-induced sleep.   
For a few minutes she sleeps and then suddenly whimpers, murmuring something sluggishly.   
"Shhhh." I stroke the side of her face.   
"I'm sorry," she whispers.   
"Just rest, sweetheart." Her eyes slowly open again, only this time she looks straight at me and I force a reassuring smile.   
"Oh god... I'm so sorry." A couple of huge tears fall onto her pillow and I swipe them away with my thumb.   
"You don't need to be. I'm here, go back to sleep."   
"I couldn't do it... I'm sorry." She must apologise twenty times before Alex comes back and sits beside me, insisting I stay put.

I sip the hot, bitter coffee and frown at Alex.   
"She keeps apologising. All she's said is she's sorry."   
"She's not really coherent." She taps her fingers on her cardboard cup, not meeting my eyes.   
"Alex, I don't wanna ask, but... tell me she didn't do this to herself."   
She shakes her head and finally meets my gaze. "She didn't."   
As the day wears on I get the distinct impression they're keeping something from me, although I can sense Alex is extremely uncomfortable about it. The doctor visits three times while I'm there, and twice they find an excuse to get me out of the room before talking, the last time he takes her into a private room to discuss the plan. They're hiding behind confidentiality obligations, because Alex is her next of kin and can legally act on her behalf, but I feel like there's more to it than that. At least she comes back smiling, even if it's a tight and kind of exhausted smile.   
"They're a little worried about her kidneys but the rest is stabilising and she'll be moved in the next few hours into a private room. She's going to be okay."   
I collapse ungracefully into the chair behind me and cover my face to hide th quiver in my lip and the fat tears that spill onto my cheeks.

  
  


Buzz sleeps the rest of the afternoon, only waking briefly and crying in pain before apologising again and drifting back to sleep. The next morning is a different story, though. She's in the psychiatric wing but her room is nicer than some hotels I've stayed in, and she's still attached to the monitors but sitting upright and looking almost alert.   
"Good morning, gorgeous." I sit down on the edge of the bed and lean in to kiss her forehead. "How are you feeling?"   
Her lips press together but don't quite curl into a smile. "Kind of like someone re-wired my brain and mixed my organs around with an egg beater. But awake is good. You just missed Alex, she's gone home for some sleep and decent food."   
"Yeah, she texted me a little while ago. Can I get you anything?"   
"No, but... I need to talk to you." She immediately starts to cry and I pull her into a hug, smoothing through her hair while she sobs into my chest.   
"Doll, whatever it is you can tell me."   
"I'm so sorry, Sebastian." I ease her back to arm's length and wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Why do you keep apologising?"   
"I couldn't do it... even for you." Her words are so fast they run together and it takes me a moment to process what she's said.   
"Do what, Buzz?" I ask gently.   
She watches the edge of the blanket rubbing between the fingertips of her shaking hands and when she speaks her voice is a tiny, frightened whisper. "I was pregnant."   
Everything lurches like my body wants to pull back but I fight the urge and keep my voice even, reaching out to hold her hand. "Was?"   
"When I came in yesterday it was for an abortion. With the medications I'm on and my instability... I'm on birth control and I was so careful." She starts to cry again but now I'm completely frozen.

I should hold her, comfort her, do or say something...

I feel like all the air has been sucked from the room and I keep trying but my lungs won't inflate. Funny how I've always been quite passionately pro choice but now it was my sperm that wiggled its way in there my brain is screaming 'how dare she' and 'I have rights'.

"Please say something," she says between sobs. I don't remember standing up or how I ended up at the window sill, maybe I intended to open it for air. Stupid. If any ward in this place would have opening windows, it wouldn't be this one.   
"Doll, I need a minute." I leave her with a kiss on top of her head and although it hurts to do it, I walk out and close the door behind me. It's so loud in my head I can't be sure she won't hear it if I stay in the room.

As a kid I had a little ant farm in my room and I'd watch them for hours until I was sure they were looking back at me. Occasionally one would stop at the clear surface and look out, and I'd feel bad because I imagine he was wondering how to get out into the big world for fresh air instead of being stuck in a plastic box with no entry or exit. I've had anxiety about this sort of stuff before and one of my little habits is always knowing where the nearest exit is, otherwise I get nervous. I know there must be one, because I somehow got inside the hospital and I'm sure all of these other people didn't just materialise inside but I can't seem to find anything but smooth glazed windows. If I have children, ant farms are out of the question. Now I know how they felt.

Exit. Arrow pointing left. Thank fucking god.

I take deep lungfuls of air like I've held my breath for months, trying to keep my outward composure at the same time. Buzz, my Buzz, was pregnant with our child.   
She was.   
She isn't any more.   
What would I have said if she'd told me? I can hardly comprehend it. I'm sure as hell not ready to be a father. Am I? The timing isn't ideal but if she'd wanted to keep it I wouldn't have argued about it.   
She didn't, though. Why does that hurt?   
No.   
She didn't say that, and she never has. Never said she didn't want children. She couldn't keep it. Either the baby wouldn't have developed right or she'd have to stop her meds, and who knows how long she'd been taking them without knowing. I could never ask her to make that decision, it's an impossible choice, and yet she made it on her own. Not just because it's her right, because she had to. I'd like to hope I would have supported whatever she wanted to do and been able to be objective and remember that whether she wants to have children or not she doesn't feel like she's ready or capable right now, but I can't know that for sure.

I can grieve for what might have been and I can be upset that the choice wasn't mine to make but I can't take that out on Buzz.

I don't know how long I was gone. It only felt like a few minutes but then it felt like hours trying to find a door, so I don't have a lot of faith in my judgment. Without a word I hold her against me and we cry together until it's not clear who is comforting who any more.   
"You have no need to be sorry, Doll. That stops now."   
"I thought about not even telling you, I didn't want you to be angry."   
"I'm really glad you did, and I could never be angry with you. The choice was taken away from you, too. There was no other option."   
"There are no children in my foreseeable future, Sebastian. If that's something you want..."   
"Then we can talk about it later. You're supposed to be resting."

When we do talk about it later she tells me that even though she doesn't want children she was upset about having to terminate, but it was mostly disappointment that she'd failed to prevent a pregnancy. I'm not ready for kids, but I'm not ready to rule it out altogether. I don't know where that leaves us except that right now I want Buzz in my life. This time when the doctor visits she asks me to stay.   
"The pregnancy hormones might actually have affected your lithium levels," he says. "Because of the previous overdose, the risperidone was likely just enough to tip you over the edge. What resulted is what we call acute on chronic toxicity, the most dangerous type."   
Previous overdose? What now?   
"What happens now?"   
He explains about doses and medications, that her worsened speech and tremors should settle to what they were, with time. Buzz seems satisfied with his answers, but all I'm left with is more questions I have no right to ask. Conversations are exhausting her, it's like her mouth doesn't want to form the words in the right language. Every sentence has stutters and slurs and I can see her grow more and more frustrated and tired, which makes it worse, which makes her more frustrated and tired. I want to ask about so many things but she needs to rest, so instead I get in to the bed behind her and hum softly until she's sleeping.

The next thing I know Alex is reading a book beneath the window. Thankfully we've moved past the recent awkwardness of her finding Buzz and me in the kitchen passing the time with a hard, fast, and rather loud quickie while waiting for the water to boil on the stove, so when she offers coffee and a chat while Buzz sleeps I eagerly accept.   
"How are you doing?" I ask. "You must have been scared to death."   
"Life with Buzz is never ever dull, that's for sure."   
"She told me what happened. That she was pregnant."   
Her eyes snap up from her cup to meet mine, wide and surprised and almost... excited? "Wow. I'm really proud of her, I didn't think she would. She wasn't going to."   
"Yeah, she told me that, too. I'm glad she did..." Am I? Ignorant bliss wouldn't be a terrible option. "It means a lot that she trusts me enough to tell me."   
"It says a lot. She's not always open about her feelings, sometimes you have to rely on actions instead." She taps her cup against mine and smiles. "Welcome to the inner circle, Sebastian."   
I laugh and rub at my eyes, they're still feeling like sandpaper after this morning. God but it feels good to laugh just a little bit.   
"How do you feel about it?" she asks.   
"I'm grateful she had you to support her, it's not like she had a choice about keeping it."   
"No, but there wouldn't have been a choice anyway. She's never wanted children, she doesn't even trust herself enough to have a cat. Notice there are no plants in her house, either."   
"What if she did trust herself, though?"   
Alex shakes her head. "Please don't ever assume that's going to happen. If she changed her mind it would be the most out of character thing she's ever done and I'd honestly believe it was under duress. She won't, Buzz is one of those women who isn't interested." Her firm tone makes me swallow hard, like I've been caught chewing gum at school.   
"I wasn't assuming anything."   
"Don't get me wrong, she wasn't unaffected. She was upset that it happened because she's been so careful about birth control since --" she pauses abruptly and blinks. "Always. It's not something she's flippant about, but there was never a thought in her mind about having it. Are you going to be okay with that?"   
"It's her body, not mine."   
"You're allowed to be upset by it, too. Not blame her or be angry with her, but you can feel whatever you need to." She looks down at her lap and a tear drops from the corner of her eye before she can swipe it away.   
"Alex?" I reach across and squeeze her hand. She sniffs and clears her throat. "Hugh and I have wanted a baby for years... it's a bit of a sore subject. I can't be upset with Buzz, she did everything to prevent it, it just hurts that it hasn't happened for us."   
"God, I'm sorry. Does Buzz know?"   
"No. Hugh kind of wants to keep it between us, so much of my life is about Buzz."   
"It must put a bit of strain on you two."   
"Some times. Not that I'd change it, she's family but she's also my best friend. I know she's working on independence, though. Not relying on me so much to keep her in check and control her meds and money. You've been really good for her, I think she's starting to see that she could have a stable life with you."   
"I hope so."   
"It's a balance, though, you know? You can't just make everything about her and have your whole life and schedule revolve around her cycles, because you have to take care of yourself, too." "I know." With her arms folded tight across her chest she gives me a tight smile and covers a yawn, making me notice the grey beneath her eyes and paleness of her skin.   
"Why don't I stay with her all day tomorrow and you can take a day for yourself? Spend it with Hugh or whatever you need."   
She opens her mouth to decline three times before nodding. "Okay, I think I will."

Instead of going home this evening there's someone important I need to talk to. Buzz was awake when we returned so I stole a few moments alone with her to remind her how much I love her and appreciate her trust and honesty. After our last kiss she kept her eyes closed for a few seconds and held the back of my neck, breathing me in as though she didn't want to forget my scent between then and tomorrow. Now, sitting in the back of a cab gridlocked in traffic, I brush my lips with the back of my hand and wish I could leave the nagging little voice behind. It's part of my mind but it's naive and primitive like a reflex left over from infanthood and I don't know how to shut it up. 'She will change her mind one day,' it says. 'All women want babies, it's in their biology. Alex just hasn't seen that side in Buzz yet.' Over and over and over. The rational side of me doesn't want her to change for me, or at all. If she doesn't want children, she doesn't. I can live with that, because I love Buzz enough. She's enough. She and I are enough. So why does my heart ache?

"Buna, mama."   
As soon as she closes the door I pull her into a tight hug. It doesn't seem that long ago she was the one holding me, but it's been a while since I could rest my head on her shoulder. She rubs my back and wraps her arms tight around me, filling my nostrils with the familiar perfume that immediately puts me at ease.   
"Sebastian, eşti bine?" [Are you all right?]   
"Da, da. Doar obosit." [Yes. Just tired.]   
Mom makes coffee for us both, which turns into dinner when my stepdad arrives home. We sit and talk about all that's been happening and although I've mentioned Buzz before I've not gone into detail or admitted I'm in love with her, so spilling it all out is quite cathartic. When I show her a picture of us both on my phone she gushes over how beautiful Buzz is without missing a beat, even though I'm sure she has an opinion on the piercings and tattoos -- she's told me many times how relieved she is that I don't have any. As is always the case, I feel lighter upon leaving than when I arrived, even though it's well into the night and I can hardly stay awake in the cab.

How can so much have happened in one day?

 


	21. Unification

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for abortion, self harm, attempted suicide, drug overdose.

Twenty mornings I've started my day in this room, in this bed, with the sliver of sun that sneaks through the other buildings and into the corner of my window. Much as I hate being here, it's allowed me to get on the right dose of meds without getting sick again and forced me to admit that for a long time it was the uncertainty of changing that I was afraid of. I've even been to group therapy when I had to, and had a counsellor to talk to every day to help process the abortion. I never expected to need help, but if I'm honest it affected me more than I'd admit out loud. Not because I wanted a baby, but because I'd much rather prevent a pregnancy than end one. Knowing that I had that tiny life inside for a short amount of time was enough to make it a devastating decision to terminate it, and the memories it brought back were more vivid than I was prepared for.   
  
But I had to. There was no other option. And at least now I can be confident it won't happen again.  
  
I feel good, and I know I must appear stable because Alex and Sebastian no longer feel the need to visit me every day or even every second day. My bag has been packed for three days and I have it on good authority that my blood results will be back today, meaning there's no more stalling.    
"Today?" I ask the doctor as soon as he opens the door.   
He laughs. "Good morning to you too, Buzz. Yes, today. You can go home as soon as I get your discharge signed off."    
I leap up and hug him, almost literally knocking him over with the shock. "I'll be ready."    
"A couple of things, though. I want to see you every second week until we're absolutely sure we have the best possible combination, and you'll see Erica every week."    
"At this point you could insist I --" I was going to say 'blow you' but cut that off just in time. "-- walk on hot coals and I'd do it. I will, I promise."  
  
A few minutes later Sebastian appears in the doorway with a beaming smile.    
"Today?" he asks.    
I nod and push myself off the side of the bed, and then I'm in his arms and his lips are on mine. Damn, I can't wait for some quality alone time with this beautiful man.    
"I'm really proud of you, doll," he says, brushing a finger over his pink lips.     
"For what?"    
"Sticking it out. You could have discharged yourself at any time, but you didn't. You did the talking you hate so much, you went to the group sessions, took your meds without arguing..." He holds me back a little and studies my face with a frown. "You're still my crazy Buzz, right?"    
"Yeah," I laugh, "I'm still yours, still crazy, still me. Just a more stable version with less crashes. I hope."    
"Do you want me to come with you, or you want some time alone to get settled at home?"    
I grab a handful of his shirt and pull him hard until he's pressed against me, standing on tiptoes so I can speak right into his ear. "I want you to come with me, and on me, and in me... I need you tonight, in my bed. All night."    
Warm hands drag down my back and squeeze my ass hard, his mouth covering mine in a searing kiss until I whimper. "You definitely deserve a reward, doll."    
We're interrupted by a nurse with a cup of meds, who can't hide a smirk. Sebastian doesn't blush often but when he does his cheeks turn so red he could light up the room.    
"I hear you're leaving us today?"    
"Sure am." I hand her back the empty cup and she winks at me before leaving, closing the door softly behind her so we at least have the illusion of privacy.  
  
"I do have to talk to you about something."    
Sebastian sits beside me and threads his fingers between mine.     
"You asked me why the doctor was talking about a previous overdose."    
"Buzz, if you don't want to tell me it's okay."    
"If you're going to be in my life you need to know -- because I can promise it won't happen again if that's what you want to hear, but they're just words and realistically... this time was a genuine accident. The others were not."    
"Okay, I'm listening. Take your time."    
So I tell him, in my own unflowered, blunt, sprinkled with curses, language. It would be nice not to relive it while I tell it, but it's fresh in my mind after discussing it with a group of people yesterday. They called it therapy, though I've never been a fan of dredging up my past in front of strangers.  
  
 _I'm 14 years old, watching another warm Nebraska night pass by. Mom thinks all of my troubles with school and my behaviour are because I don't sleep, so last week she took me to the doctor and got me some pills. He said I have ADHD and that this will help me concentrate at school, though I don't see how that works when I take it before bed. I don't know if I have ADHD or not, but I do know that I can either concentrate so hard I lose all track of time or not at all. Dad says I'm just lazy about school work and should sleep like a regular kid, says if I come out of my room at night he'll put a lock on the outside. So far the pills have done nothing: I still can't sleep and I'm not doing any better in anything but computer science. I wait until mom and dad are in bed, then I wait another half an hour to be sure they're asleep before I risk turning on my light to work on the old computers the librarian at school gave me. Out of the crate full I'm hoping to get one machine working, if I could just figure out which parts are broken._    
  
 _Sometimes while they're still up and the television is on I give in to the pull deep in my belly, let my fingers rub on that sensitive little nub between my legs. I close my eyes and imagine someone else's fingers doing the work, maybe one of the boys from school. Most of them are drop-kicks who can barely string a sentence together, but there's one quiet type I see in the library a lot who is cute in a nerdy kind of way. He has nice glasses, but he's never paid a second of attention to me or any other girls so I wonder if maybe he's gay. There are times when I think I might be gay, or bi, like that time I overheard Dax and his friends talking about a porno where a girl was licking another girl's vag. I think I'd like that quite a lot, and it gave me a funny feeling down there to think of another girl licking me. Earlier tonight it wasn't my fingers rubbing away until my legs clamped together like some sort of seizure, but Bree's tongue -- one of the girls from school whose parents banned me from their house when we were ten. I still get angry about that, the cigarette lighter wasn't mine but she let me take the fall because she couldn't make it light, I was just showing her how. It's not like I was going to start a fire. In my mind I hold her head between my legs and her tongue is so good I accidentally let out a little noise. Dax does it too, sometimes. I know about the magazines and the sock he keeps hidden in his bottom drawer._  
  
 _Even an orgasm didn't help me sleep tonight. It's 2am and I'm so desperately tired, but my brain and my body won't turn off. Mom usually takes the bottle of pills away and locks it up with the other medicines, she hasn't trusted me with anything like that since my obsession with death a few years ago. Tonight we had a big fight about my English homework and she slammed the door, leaving them on the little table by my bed. I never feel any different after taking it, the doctor said I might need a higher dose. I'd do anything to sleep. Anything to shut up my stupid fucking brain. I scream into my pillow and wish I had someone to talk to, someone who would just listen without blaming everything on my own choices. I don't have control over anything anymore. And then I'm opening the bottle, figuring if one tablet is good then five is better. 'It's perfectly safe,' I heard the doctor tell mom. I might as well have not been in the room, the way they talked about every little thing I've ever done wrong in my short life. For a brief moment I wonder if it might put me to sleep permanently but that doesn't scare me. I feel like it should. But wouldn't everything be easier, anyway? Dax never gets any attention because I'm always in trouble. Mom and dad are fed up with my impulses. My brain would just shut the fuck up, forever._  
  
"I remember feeling really drowsy and thinking maybe I should go tell someone, but then there was silence... for the couple of minutes before I passed out it was amazing, everything slowed down and was quiet and peaceful. Then I woke up in the hospital and everyone was so angry. Not pleased to see me awake and alive, just mad that I did it. They said I just wanted attention." I wipe my cheeks and Sebastian squeezes my hand but I can't look at him. "I was a smart kid but I've never felt more dumb. God, mom and dad were furious, I never heard the end of it. The only person who came to visit and gently asked 'why' without insisting I did it for attention was Alex."    
He sniffles and clears his throat. "And then they left you in the hospital?"    
"Nah, they left me in the hospital after they caught me burning the inside of my wrist with the tip of a knife a few years later. Mom told them I was trying to kill myself -- which, for the record, I was not -- and that I wasn't safe with them any more."    
"Am I allowed questions?"    
"Of course."    
"What exactly were you trying to achieve by burning yourself?"    
I shrug. "I kind of like pain. I told you I enjoy being tattooed, and pierced, sometimes rough sex. It's the same idea as cutting only I never liked the blood. Hard to explain to someone who doesn't do it but there's relief in it." He's looking at me like I'm crazy but it's not a look that bothers me any more, I've seen it all my life in different faces. "I don't do it any more," I mumble.     
"I actually find that really interesting," he says, still watching me intently. "But sad."    
"Barrett did, too."    
"Who?"    
"The guy I thought was cute, in the library."  
  
 _"Jubilee, meet Barrett. He's going to help you with English and Social Studies," the head of the English department informed me after my return from hospital. I protested, insisting there was nothing wrong with my social skills and I had a great grasp on the english language, including expletives as examples, but she was quite persuasive. Essentially I accepted Barrett's help or I repeated the year. For once someone had patience with me, and he didn't care whether I sat down at a desk or wandered around the school grounds. We made up stupid songs so I could remember all the irrelevant dates for history, and he kept explaining concepts to me until I understood._    
  
 _School is ending for the summer, and Barrett's name is read out among the graduates. He's older than me, I still have to wait a year. Afterward he grabs my hand and takes me behind the science block. "I love you, Buzz," he says. "Spend the summer with me?" Then he kisses me, teases his tongue between my lips until my knees feel weak. I'm so nervous, never been kissed like that before, but he's patient and gentle and by the time he walks me home my lips are bruised and I think I've got the hang of it. He takes me inside and we lie together in his bed for some more practice. When I fall asleep he holds me and I wake up with our fingers woven together._  
  
 _Barrett has a car, an old pick-up his dad gave him, and he takes me to the pool every day where I swim until my lungs burn and my limbs have the pleasant ache of exertion. Then we splash in the water together for a while and spread our bodies in the sun. Sometimes we drive out beyond all the houses and lay in the back of his pick-up, and he kisses me hard while touching places no one but me has ever touched. I don't know if I should like it, but it makes me want more. One day he takes me home, the hot car seat burning my bare skin, and when the house is empty I invite him in to my room. We're lying around on my bed listening to some CDs when we start fooling around and he slowly peels off my swimsuit, exploring my body. He asks if I ever touch myself, tells me to put his hands where I want them and that he wants to make me come. It's amazing, he makes me feel like I'm flying and free and then for a blissful few minutes there's complete peace. His long slender fingers start to explore inside me and I can't get enough of his touch and his closeness. But before we can go further my mom is pulling into the drive and we're frantically putting our clothes back on. The next day I ask him if his hard-on went away and he turns as red as a tomato, so I suppose he has a sock tucked away just like Dax does. It feels good to know I got him so worked up, that maybe he was thinking of me while he jerked himself off._  
  
 _For the rest of the summer he's like a drug, we can't get enough of each other. He reads to me, sings to me, makes love to me until my body vibrates with pleasure. The first time his dick breaches me it hurts so much I cry and he pulls back but I don't want to stop so I pull on his hips until he's buried inside, intoxicated by the fullness and intimacy of our most private places being joined so completely. My mom and dad both work days at the ethanol plant so we have plenty of time to be alone together in my room but we sometimes get carried away and forget to use condoms, he always pulls out and coats my stomach with his sticky semen. His parents are separating and it's messy, he spends more and more time at our house or we park beneath the trees by the creek, the dappled light shrouding us from prying eyes. Some nights he sneaks in and sleeps beside me, vows to get us both out of here, we'll go somewhere better where we can be together and happy. He talks about college, how he'll go and get himself settled so that when I graduate he has somewhere for us to live. When he's with me and we have sex I can fall asleep in his arms without even trying, he makes me feel so safe and like things will be better if I just hold on._  
  
 _My period is late, and when the little stick shows two lines I don't know if my breakfast comes up because of stress or morning sickness. I don't know how to tell Barrett or what to do about it, and I can already see the looks of disappointment mom and dad will give me. Barrett's mom shows up at our house but she makes him wait in the car while she tells my mom that they're moving away, she needs to get her son away from my inappropriate influence -- apparently one of the nosy neighbours knows he let me drive his pick-up, and lord knows what else they saw. He doesn't even know I'm pregnant, I'm not allowed to say goodbye. I cry and ask mom for help, confess that we were sleeping together and I love him and we're going to have a baby. She doesn't talk to me after that, just takes me to the doctor and they give me a pill to make it go away. I thought we were going to get a sonogram and talk about vitamins and they talk about my baby like it's just a problem to be 'fixed', like I'm not in the room. Again. I'm fed up with mom and her pills and the small town doctors who were probably trained before penicillin was discovered. But I'm heartbroken and they say I'm too young for a baby, so I force it down and she sends me to bed. Alex comes to visit the following day, she's home for a few days over the summer break. Mom tries to tell her I'm too sick for visitors but Alex creeps in anyway, holds a hot water bottle to my stomach while I whimper in pain and stays with me a few days until I feel better. She leaves me her address and phone number and says as soon as I can leave to get to New York and we'll work it out from there._    
  
 _No one warned me how terrible the cramps would be, or that I'd feel like I'm hemorrhaging and bleed through my clothes into the bed. The pain takes my breath away and I think I might die, alone in my bedroom, and I wouldn't mind. The bleeding and pain is nothing compared to the despair. I'm not allowed out of the house, I've fucked up again and I'm grounded for the rest of the summer. I can't find release, I have no one to talk to. It starts when I'm bored, playing with a cigarette lighter I found in Dax's bathroom drawer. If I get it hot and press it on the back of my hand it feels good, so I experiment with different places on my body and then try heating up different objects to get a better burn. That's when mom catches me, with the tip of a knife leaving nice even triangles of seared skin all over the inside of my wrist, and drives me right to the hospital. She tells the doctor I've made another suicide attempt and they can't care for me anymore, they don't feel anyone is safe. They talk about me like I'm not in the room again, and no one listens when I try to rebuke her claims of violence and threats toward my family and myself. A beautiful nurse named Ruby undresses me until I'm naked, helps me in the shower and doesn't mind that there's blood all over her white towel._  
  
"And they just left you there?" Sebastian asks softly when I fall silent.  
I nod and wipe my nose with a tissue he hands me. "No one really knew what to do with me. I'd been there for months before they diagnosed me with bipolar thanks to an intern. I begged her to discharge me, I knew Alex was in New York, but the other doctors said they couldn't release me without my parents' permission and they said they didn't want me at home. Eventually she let me go, told me to get out of town before they could bring me back. She risked her job, but I called her when I found Alex and she said everything was fine, she played dumb and because I was 18 it was a grey area anyway."    
"And you just landed on Alex's doorstep?"    
"Dax helped get some of my stuff from home and gave me some money, then I got on a bus."  
  
 _Two days on a bus and I am in dire need of a shower, for the entire second leg I've had serious concerns that I might turn into one of those crazy people that holds the entire bus hostage without making any sensible demands. Finally I step off on shaky, stiff legs, looking around New York for the first time. I feel free and alive, my skin vibrating with the world of potential life that just opened up after being stuck in a cell-like hospital ward for so long. It takes me almost two hours to walk to Alex's apartment block, but I barely notice the amount of time except for the ten minutes where I went around in a big circle. There are so many people and lights and sounds, it's like the city of overstimulation charging my worn down batteries. Even when it starts to rain I'm not deterred, it's just another layer of new experience._  
 _"I was just rained on, in New York. This might be the best day of my life!"_  
 _"Buzz! Oh my god!" Alex throws her arms around me and pulls me inside._  
  
"What happened?"    
"After a few months on her couch I realised no matter how far from home I ran I was still sick, and the thought of living through the ups and downs for the rest of my life was overwhelming. I wasn't so much a roomy for Alex as a huge burden, she stopped going out with her new friends when I got really down and was paying for my meds. I couldn't afford the right doctors or therapy, the best I could get was a volunteer clinic that was mostly filled with addicts and after one guy came in and blew his brains all over his counsellor I couldn't go back. While she was at work I took a handful of Lithium and prayed I didn't wake up."  
"Oh, Buzz." Sebastian pulls me against him and I let my face be buried in his chest.     
"She came home... I was unconscious, she thought I was dead, I was barely breathing. I spent a month in hospital and it took years for me to forgive myself and not wish I'd just died. She still blames herself sometimes, when she's being a little too overprotective I'm sure that's why." I pause to look up as he wipes his cheeks. "That's why I get the tremors and the speech problems. I have to be spot on with the Lithium and my kidneys don't work like they should."    
"That's... a lot to process, I don't know what to say." He moves over and leans on the window frame, facing away from me. "I'm really glad you told me."    
"I'm telling you because I can see us being together a long time. It's my past and I want to leave it behind, but it's part of why I am the way I am. And I can't promise that I won't do that again, or that I won't want to. It happens and I fight it, I have support and I know what to do, but I don't know what's going to happen in the future any more than you do." After a few seconds of silence I go to him, squeezing myself between him and the window until he cracks a smile. "For the first time in my life I feel like I can be independent, and I want to. For you, and for Alex. Because she deserves to have her own life, and because I'm so in love with you its frightening."    
"I fucking love you, you know that?" He kisses me and I feel his lips quiver.    
I nod and our foreheads rub together. "I can't be a parent, I'm hardly capable of caring for myself..." I trail off and try to swallow the lump in my throat but fresh tears flow from my eyes.   
"I understand, it's okay."    
"No, I mean I physically can't. While I was under things were cut and tied and... I asked the doctor to make it permanent so I can't get pregnant again."    
"That was a brave decision," he whispers, stroking the back of my hair.     
"Now you know all there is to know. All of my demons are out in the open."  
  
We stand there, locked together, and he's holding me tight like he's trying to wring all of my feelings out and into him. Every time he sighs or his breath hitches I wonder if he's about to pull away and it's all I can do not to run before he can reject me. But I plant my feet and grab fistfuls of his shirt, and he kisses the top of my head or smooths over my hair until the terror ebbs away again.  
"Would you think about moving in with me?" he asks suddenly.    
There are many reactions I might have expected, but that wasn't even on the radar.  
"Um... Okay. There are considerations, of course. My place is joined to Alex's with a door, so..." I stop when he places a finger over my lips.    
"What if I moved in with you?"    
A smile spreads across my face and I feel warmth in my cheeks. "That could work. Sebastian, would you move in with me?"    
"Mmm..." he cocks his head from one side to the other like he's thinking. "Okay."    
"Think about it for a while, though. Don't rush in to it, you still need to process what I just told you." I bite my lip and look up until he meets my gaze. "Do you still want to come home with me?"    
"Oh ye of little faith." He laughs and wipes the moisture from both of our faces. "I can compartmentalise like a boss, doll. Close the lid on that box, I have a woman to satisfy."  
  
Oh my god I have missed this man. We're barely inside my door before his hands and lips are on me, removing clothes and tasting my skin as he exposes it.    
"Wait, I need a shower. I have hospital on me."    
He smiles and his teeth graze the side of my neck. "Well I guess I have hospital on me, too."    
He undresses me fully while the water warms up, hurriedly tossing his own clothes aside until we're both naked and kissing under the spray.     
"I missed you," he says as he wraps his mouth around my nipple and sucks the gold bar between his teeth. I let my head fall back as my hand wraps around his length and I feel his heavy breath on my breast.     
"I can't wait any longer." I wrap my leg around his hips and pull him hard toward me, guiding his cock between my folds. As he pushes against me I pull his face up to mine, our eyes locking as he eases slowly into me with a groan.    
His sweet breath is hot in my face as he thrusts back and forth a few times and then pauses, dropping his head forward and laughing. "I'm not gonna last long, you feel too good." Even the tiny movements he makes are making my walls ripple in pleasure as he takes my hand and kisses my fingertips, sucking each one into his mouth and then guiding them to my bud. "You're gonna have to help me." I make a few firm circles with the pads of my fingers and he must feel it from inside because he sighs and kisses my neck.     
"Fuck... I won't be far behind."    
And so he sets a steady pace with thrusts that force my hand hard against my pelvis and I can already feel an orgasm building so fast my legs feel weak. Sebastian hoists me up against the wall, his fingers digging into my thighs as I wrap my legs around his hips. With his hard length brushing my g-spot an orgasm breaks over me and it's all I can do to keep my eyes on Sebastian's, watching his dilated pupils as he pushes me through the other side. I feel him slow and he frowns ever so slightly, his mouth open in ecstasy, and then his eyes go wide as I feel his warmth flooding inside.     
  
He sets me on my feet and I step back beneath the warm water. "God damn, I love you. That was not the 'welcome home' I was planning, though."    
I laugh and smooth the dripping hair back from his face. "Felt pretty good to me, but we've got all afternoon and all night if you'd like a second attempt."  
  
Lying in bed later I feel like my senses are heightened, like the hairs are standing up all over my body. "My whole body is kind of humming."    
"Mmm," Sebastian says, not stopping his fingers combing through my damp hair. "Me too." He laughs. "I don't know whether to say I'm Buzzing or I've been Buzzed."    
I giggle into his neck, my fingertips running lightly over his chest. For a long, long time -- longer than I think I've ever lay still in my life -- we just kind of bask in the afterglow, the sort that only comes after re-discovering each other's bodies and multiple orgasms. The bedroom grows dark, neither of us thought to turn on any lights between the shower and the bed, and the city below somehow gets noisier as though it really only wakes up once the sun disappears.     
"We've been invited to Alex and Hugh's for dinner," he says, scrolling through his phone.     
I lift my head and pout. "That would involve clothes. I'd much rather stay here with you. Naked."    
"I know, but Alex has been so worried about you and so eager to have you home..."    
"You've been talking a lot, huh?"    
I know while I was in the hospital they were communicating and coordinating their visits -- mostly so Alex didn't have to witness Sebastian's tongue in my throat -- but Alex has let slip a few times that they've had deeper conversations as well.    
"Yeah, we have something pretty special in common."    
Before I can respond my stomach betrays me by rumbling loudly. "Ok, but I'm gonna need another shower."  
  
Hugh and I have kind of a strange relationship. We love each other as family but he's always kind of awkward around me like if he gets too close I might detonate and take him out with me. That's not to say he doesn't have reason to keep his distance, I have no doubt on occasion my actions have given him cause to question my stability and god knows what sort of stress he's had to deal with from Alex always putting me first, but he generally avoids any contact if he can help it. He's never been cold toward me, I always feel welcome and loved, but it's almost like the welcome I'd expect them to give a rambunctious Alsatian puppy -- all smiles and hugs and pats even while stowing away their valuables. Which is why I stumble a little in shock when he kisses my cheek and then hugs me almost uncomfortably tight.    
"We were so worried, Buzz. It's really great to have you home."    
"It's good to be home. Thank you for taking care of me." The hug is going on long enough to get a little uneasy. "Hugh? Is something wrong?"    
He pulls away and scratches the back of his neck. "No, not at all. Just glad you're home." And then he shuffles off to get drinks, leaving me genuinely concerned.  
  
Halfway through the most amazing spaghetti and meatballs -- Alex is also one of the best cooks I know and her meatballs are amazing -- I calmly set down my cutlery and eye both Alex and Hugh across the table.    
"One of you is going to tell me what's going on, you've been weird all night. I feel like you're filling my tummy and plying me with alcohol so you can break the news that one of you has cancer."    
Alex laughs and takes Hugh's hand on the table, squeezing it so her engagement ring sparkles. "Nothing like that. We've set a date for the wedding and decided to make it nice and small."    
"Intimate," Hugh adds. "Just our families and close friends."    
"It's next month," Alex says, laughing nervously. "When we called they'd had a cancellation and it was either that or wait until next Spring, so... we're getting married next month!"    
Excitement bubbles away in my belly, I've been wondering if they'd ever choose a date. "I'm so happy for you guys, I can't wait!" I lift my glass and then frown. "Why the nervous faces?"    
"It means your family will be here."    
And the bubbles have turned to lead. I force a smile. "Well that's okay, it's your wedding of course you'd want all of your family."      
"I wanted to get around it but dad was upset his sister wouldn't be coming, so... Are you sure you're okay with it?"    
"Yes, don't be silly. I'm an adult. I've come a long way since I last saw them."    
It's all I can do to continue eating past the lump in my throat, though. As it turns out Alex was planning this when I got sick and she didn't want to spring it on me until she was sure I'd handle it, which explains why Hugh was so relieved to have me home -- Alex wouldn't move ahead with the preparations until I was out of the hospital. The more details she shows me the more animated she becomes, and her enthusiasm is rubbing off on me. The apprehension is still there, it's just co-existing with the excitement.   
  
"Tell me about your mom," Sebastian says, startling me from my thoughts. It's well past midnight and I thought he went to sleep about an hour ago when his fingers stopped tracing the lines of my mermaid tattoo.     
"You know, it's funny, you're the second person to come out with that question in a week." I turn over to face him. "I thought you were asleep."    
"I was, but you weren't. How worried are you about seeing your mom and dad again?"    
"It's only been 15 years or so, how awkward can it be?" A long breath meanders its way out while I try to put it into words. "I used to be so angry, I hated them so much for abandoning me in that place like a broken toy. Sometimes I wonder if they were just given bad advice or didn't know any better."    
"They must know how successful you are, though?"    
"I guess. They've never tried to contact me and it's not like I'm hard to find."    
"Never?" His grip tightens on my arm and I place my hand over his until he relaxes it, shaking my head. "What about your brother?"    
"I think it's easier for him not to relive it. What I did and all that happened, it can't have been easy. He's in Omaha last I heard. Married, a couple of kids, he's the director of one of the Kiewit companies."    
"I'm sorry, Buzz. You deserve better family."    
"Alex makes up for all of them. I'm so excited for them, I can't believe they're so close to being married. And she's letting me choose my own dress, no hideous puffy sleeves for this bridesmaid." I reach up and kiss his lips. "You'll be there, right?"    
"Of course, I wouldn't miss it." He pulls me against him and kisses my forehead. "You need to sleep, doll."    
  
Sebastian's fingers stroke up and down my spine and he hums a simple melody I don't recognise.     
"That's pretty, what is it?"    
" _Nani, nani, puiul mamii_ , a Romanian lullaby my mom used to sing." He continues a minute and then trails off. "Buzz?"    
"Mm?"    
"I don't need time to think or process what you said. I love you, I always will, and I want to wake up with you every morning. Good mornings, bad mornings, all of it."     
Without waiting for a response he continues his soft hum and I close my eyes, focusing solely on the sound of his voice and the comforting reverberation beneath my ear.

 


	22. Vendetta

## Sebastian

Buzz and I agreed to a one month trial of living together but three weeks in I was ready to let my apartment go, we both knew it was right. She's doing really well, and we've found such a good routine that even Alex is pleasantly surprised. Alex isn't ready to trust her, though, and I suppose that's natural after what they've been through all this time but I hope that one day soon she'll see how far Buzz has come. I've embraced the fact that a life with Buzz won't be easy and will mean letting go of the marriage and children I thought I wanted, because there is no future I want more than the one with her in it. However that works, and what it looks like from the outside, I don't care. As long as she's by my side.   
  
As the wedding preparations have moved along and the date grew closer she's become anxious about seeing her family again, even if she's reluctant to admit the weakness. Erica says it's because they're out of her control and she doesn't know what to expect, whereas everything else in her life is either predictable or has contingencies in place. I'm not sure what to expect — either from the family or Buzz's reaction — so my plan is to just be there for whatever Buzz needs on the day and make Alex and Hugh as happy as possible. The gown that hangs in the wardrobe remains a mystery in its protective black cover, the only thing I know about are the silver heels she's been breaking in around the house for the past week.   
  
Buzz is next door with Alex now, putting the final touches on nails and fake tans and goodness knows what other secret bride stuff; once they started talking about waxing and landing strips I was out. Before she comes home she's giving them her wedding gift as well, partly because she can't keep it to herself any longer. When she first suggested sending them on a honeymoon I knew she'd already made up her mind — Buzz loves nothing more than spoiling Alex any chance she gets. I think a tiny part of her wants to show Alex that she can manage on her own, too.  
  
A shriek from the other side of the door is the first clue she might have just told them, so I open it a crack to find Alex and Hugh jumping up and down in each other's arms while Buzz beams.     
"We're going to Maui!" Alex sings loudly, a half glass of bubbly waving around in one hand. "Sebastian, we're going on a honeymoon!"    
"A well-deserved one, too. All set for tomorrow?"    
"I think so. If we've forgotten anything we'll have to do without it. Make sure Buzz gets some sleep, would you?"    
"I'll do my best," I tell her with a wink.     
"Let me finish this and I'll be home," Buzz says, holding up her own glass of bubbles.     
  
As we soak together in a hot bath and I rub her neck and shoulders she relaxes back against me, some of the tension releasing from her body. I'm under no delusion that I can take all of the stress away but if I can just help her sleep she'll do so much better tomorrow.     
"What do you think will be the hardest part?" I ask as she lets her head fall back onto my shoulder.     
"I think seeing them again, it's going to bring back a lot of emotions but I'm not sure what. I'll probably want to run, but I can't because it's Alex's wedding."    
"What can I do to make it easier?"    
"Just be there, it's enough knowing you're there if I need you."

"It's going to be organised chaos on the day," Alex told me last week. "Your job is to keep Buzz calm."    
She wasn't exaggerating.    
Even though the guest list is short and the ceremony informal, there are people coming and going every few seconds. There's a dressing room at the function centre with plenty of room for the bride and groom and their respective entourages to remain separate, though I do feel a bit out of place spending all of my time with the women while they have their hair and makeup perfected. Buzz and Alex are sitting in front of huge mirrors in their matching silk robes, having the final touches put on their makeup, when Alex's mom and dad arrive. I can easily see where Alex gets her warm smile and kind nature from, her mom could be mistaken for an older sister. Before their greetings are over Buzz has stood from her chair and is enveloped in a tight, almost sympathetic hug.  
  
"And look at you, beautiful girl. Alexandra says you're doing so well."    
"Thanks, Aunt Trisha." Buzz gestures me over. "This is Sebastian. Sebastian, my Aunt Trisha and Uncle Peter."    
Peter shakes my hand. "Good to see Jubilee has found a man that makes her happy."    
"I do my best," I reply before being engulfed by a tight, rose-scented hug from Trisha.    
She holds me by my shoulders, squeezing firmly and smiling as though she's holding back. I don't know if it's tears or words but she nods approvingly before turning her attention to the flowers that were delivered a moment ago. Peter excuses himself fairly quickly, muttering something about oestrogen, while I carry on my job of keeping the girls topped up with champagne — diluted with guava juice so they don't stumble down the aisle — and being a general runner. So far I've only been sent back to the apartment once for Alex's shoes so we're doing okay.   
  
When they're occupied with jewellery I sneak out and find Peter chatting with Hugh, who quickly excuses himself after a reminder about the rings.    
"I'm worried about Buzz seeing her parents for the first time in so long, not knowing how either party is going to react."    
"They won't cause a scene, if that's what you're worried about."    
"No, not at all. I just thought it might bring back some unpleasant memories for her. I was hoping maybe we could organise for them to meet before the ceremony, somewhere private?"    
"That's not a bad idea. For the record, Janet was at a loss and she didn't know how to help Jubilee. We're small town people and she took the advice of the doctors on hand at the time."    
"Oh, I'm sure. She knows that, too. I'm not here to judge, it's just that Buzz — Jubilee —" strange, how foreign her given name feels on my tongue, "has been doing so well and I want her to have a really great day today. And Alex would feel better knowing there won't be an issue."    
"You're a good man, Sebastian. Alexandra has told us how you've taken care of Jubilee and how much you love her." He claps me on the shoulder. "I'll see what I can organise, they're staying here at the hotel so it shouldn't be difficult."  
  
 _God I hope I didn't just do the wrong thing. Will she be mad about being confronted with them alone in a small space? I'd ask Alex what she thinks but she doesn't need to be bothered with this right now and I should be able to make decisions like this myself. I guess the worst that could happen is ruining her day, and that has to be better done before the wedding than during. Right?_  
  
I swallow hard and open the door to the dressing room, right on to Buzz wearing nothing but a g-string.    
"God damn my timing is good!"    
"Settle an argument, should I put pasties on my nips?"    
There is way too much going on in my head for that question. "Put what on who now?"    
She holds up an assortment of shapes — circles, stars, hearts — in glittering silver, gold, and some that match her skin tone. "Pasties. So my nipples don't poke out."    
"Uh..." This isn't a conversation I'm comfortable having in front of people, mostly because the idea of being able to see her arousal right through her dress is making my pants uncomfortable, not to mention she's standing on a little pedestal practically naked. "You're not wearing a bra?"    
She shakes her head. "Spaghetti straps, low-cut back, nowhere to hide a bra."    
"I think if she's going to wear the slinky satin dress she should be out and proud but she's worried there will be an uneven nip-nop situation where one is poking and the other isn't." Alex adds.    
Making her nipples hard could be a fun game to keep her occupied, but it also means all of those people seeing my woman's nipples, and I feel a surge of possession. "Pasties. Can I choose?"    
"Please do," she purrs, handing them over.     
"Your dress is silver, yeah?"    
Buzz nods, and I hand her the glittering silver hearts.     
"You're not gonna put them on for me?"    
I lick my suddenly parched lips as Alex and Trisha gape at her. "No, I am not."    
"Your loss."    
I busy myself with a copy of Vogue from the coffee table to keep from watching, otherwise I'll ruin my dress pants. When she clears her throat I look up again and toss it back onto the table, my jaw hanging open.     
"Wow."    
The fabric drapes like a waterfall over her body, hugging and accentuating every curve. It falls all the way to her bare feet, the back cut almost to her hips. With her hair returned to a more neutral ash-blonde for the occasion and curled around her face she looks like an ethereal goddess, the gown swishing around her legs as she steps down and closes the distance between us.    
"You like it?"    
I nod to keep from saying something inappropriate.     
"Help me with my shoes?"    
She hands me the shiny silver stilettos and I kneel at her feet, carefully fastening the tiny buckle on each ankle. I take my time, rubbing circles on the arch of her foot with my thumb until her lips part just a fraction and her cheeks turn pink. When she holds out her hands to help me up I linger for a moment with her fingers clasped in mine, looking up at the light filtering through her hair like a halo.  
  
My angel.  
  
I know we're all thinking the same thing, Trisha and Alex's eyes are on us now, too. I'm kneeling, with her hands delicately held in mine, like I'm about to ask a life-changing question. There's a soft knock on the door and then Peter opens it slowly, joining in the 'all eyes on Sebastian and Buzz' moment. I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles softly, reverently, before I stand. If I thought she'd say yes I'd ask 'that' question right here.    
"Sebastian, the um... thing has been organised. Whenever you're ready."    
"Thanks," I say with a nod before he closes the door.    
"What thing?" Buzz asks quietly.    
"I thought you could go see your parents before the ceremony, clear the air a bit so you won't have to worry about it so much?"    
With both hands on my cheeks she pulls me to her mouth and kisses me. "You'll come with me?"    
"Of course."  
  
In the elevator she grips my hand tight, moisture already coating my skin from her sweaty palm. Before we left the dressing room I changed into my shirt and tie for the ceremony but I'm regretting that now, wondering if making a good first impression is worth getting my shirt all sticky before the wedding begins.     
"You okay?" I ask, pressing a kiss to her forehead.    
"What if they don't want to see me?"    
"Buzz, you're their daughter and you have an illness, you didn't do anything wrong. If they don't want to see you we can cut them out altogether and never speak of them again. But if they allowed your uncle to organise this, I'm pretty sure they do."    
"What do I say?" Her fingers tremble in my hand and her feet shift in her heels.     
"Start with 'hello'?"  
  
The woman that opens the hotel room door wears a similar expression to Buzz — hesitant and apprehensive. Her straw-coloured hair is cropped close to her head, deep creases in her forehead telling a life story of worry and uncertainty. I step aside and her hazel eyes mist over as she looks upon her adult daughter for the first time, her face contorting as she tries to hold back relief and joy.    
"Jubilee," she whispers.     
"Hello," Buzz says meekly, still holding my hand. The trembling is constant, now, and she rolls her ankles in and out the way a shy teenager might do when faced with their crush. "How... how are you?"    
"Good. We're good." She holds the door open with her body and gestures us inside. "Come in."    
"Mom, this is Sebastian. My boyfriend."    
"Janet," she says, shaking my hand. "It's lovely to see you both. You look beautiful."    
"Thanks," Buzz says.     
A man enters from the bedroom, so tall and wide his presence seems to take some of the light from the room, with a deep, booming voice to match. He doesn't smile or look anxious like Janet, and reminds me of a no-nonsense principal I had once in high school. One of those ones that mostly didn't yell, but when he did he scared tears into the eyes of half the school.   
  
"Sebastian, this is Marcos. My dad."    
He shakes my hand with a huge palm that I'm sure could crush mine if he wished it, but I find myself determined to hold his gaze and return his force.    
"Nice to see you, Jubilee. Your mother has been looking forward to it, it's all she's talked about."    
"I hear your business is going well," Janet says. "You must be so proud."    
"Yeah, I have a wonderful team working for me and we have some big contracts coming up."    
"Your brother's doing really well, too. Got his family all set up nice on a few acres." Marcos says.  
Janet seems to brush away his interjection with her hand. "You'll see him later today, I'm sure. And how long have you two been together?"    
"Not all that long, a few months I guess. Sebastian has just moved in with me."    
"He moved in with you? Not the other way around?" Marcos says with a smirk.    
"Well, Buzz had a bigger place, and it shares a wall with Alex and Hugh."    
"Sebastian travels a lot for work so it made more sense to do it that way, and I already own my place. Our place."    
"Sounds lovely. What do you do, Sebastian?"     
"Janet," Marcos makes a show of looking at his watch, "I'm sure the maid of honour is needed elsewhere. Let her get back to Alexandra."    
"Right. Maybe we could talk a little more later?"    
"I'm sure we can," Buzz says, releasing my hand slowly. She closes the gap between them in two strides and timidly opens her arms. "It's really good to see you, mom."  
Janet doesn't respond, her lips pressed together in a firm line, but she does return the embrace quite forcefully.  
  
"That went... did that go okay?" she asks. "Was my dad too abrupt with you? He does that sometimes, mom says he's a big marshmallow on the inside but he can be a little intimidating. Apparently when I was a baby I was the centre of his world, he used to take me everywhere and I'd always wait at the front door for him to come home. I don't know when that stopped, probably when I —"    
I grab her face with both hands and silence her with a kiss.     
"Thank you," she says softly.     
I don't know if she's thanking me for the kiss or arranging whatever that was that just happened, but she's welcome. Whatever was holding her shoulders up around her ears has released and the confidence is back in her stride as we re-enter the dressing room where Alex is adjusting her dress, where Buzz busies herself making sure the bride looks perfect.  
  
My role at the beginning of the day was to look out for Buzz, minimise the stress of re-uniting with her family and keep her calm during the chaos before the ceremony, but now it's begun I can sit back for a bit and really appreciate the event itself. Right up until the music started Buzz had the option of taking me down the aisle with her but decided at the last minute to brave it alone, which means I get to watch her walk slowly toward me on a path of rose petals to the floaty soundtrack of a string quartet. God damn, she's just... perfection. She's not broken. Sometimes unpredictable, yes. But her imbalances are what make her so sublime, and they make her who she is. Jubilee. Buzz. My Buzz. When we talked a few nights ago about how she's feeling she said it was like putting equally weighted children on a see-saw — it still goes up and down but it's somewhat controlled and only so far each way. Actually she said it's like being on a see-saw that also spins in circles, but at least it's path is defined and well-worn. I love her so much that sometimes if I sit with it too long it threatens to overwhelm me and fear begins to creep in, I wonder if I'm enough. As she reaches the front where I'm seated she smiles — not the smile she put on because she was doing her bridesmaid duty, the one that lights up her face with pure joy and crinkles her eyes with ever-present mischief that's reserved only for me — and then diverts at the last second to plant a kiss on my lips before standing in her designated place.     
'I love you,' I mouth to her when her eyes flick away from Alex to meet mine. Her cheeks colour just a little and with visible effort she returns her gaze to the bride.  
  
And then there's music and dancing while waiters distribute little morsels of deliciousness from silver trays. When the band announce a change in tempo she grasps my hand and drags me toward the bar for a drink, and then stops dead in her tracks so abruptly that I knock her forward, barely catching her by the hips.     
"Sorry, doll. Why'd you stop?"    
A man stands in front of her, tall and ominous like her father but with lighter features and sandy hair. "Buzz?" he says with a crooked smile.    
She nods and he pulls her into a crushing hug, his chin pressing against her shoulder.     
"God, it's so good to see you. I've been following Lightyear's progress and it's doing so well, I'm so proud of you."    
"I'm so glad you came, Dax." She pulls back and gestures to me. "Sebastian, this is Dax."    
"Hey," he says, clearly not ready to divert his attention from Buzz. "I missed you, sis. We're staying a few days, maybe we could catch up before we leave?"    
"I'd love that," she says.    
"I have a wife around here somewhere, probably trying to keep the children away from the dessert table," he says with a laugh, pulling out his phone and handing it to her. "Put your number in and we'll organise something tomorrow."    
Just as she's handing it back Alex interrupts, grabbing both of our hands. "If I have to slow dance, so do you!"  
  
Buzz's arms thread around my neck and she presses against me as we sway together to a live and very much stylised rendition of 'What a wonderful world'. I can feel her warmth right through the thin fabric of her dress and my shirt, and when my hands glide down her sides they skim the swell of her unrestrained breasts.     
"This no bra thing is very, very hot. Especially in this dress."    
She looks down between us and giggles. "I can tell."    
"Have I told you today how exquisite you are?" I say into her ear.     
A blush colours her cheeks and she looks up at me through impossibly long lashes. "Have I told you how much I appreciate you? You make me want to fight harder, Sebastian. You give me so many things to be thankful for." She looks down for a moment, fingering my tie, and then back up into my eyes. "For you I want to live."    
I want to respond but I can't speak for the lump in my throat, so I kiss her gently and then rest our foreheads together. By the time I feel able to form words the band has moved on to a new song, another that keeps us swaying slowly together.    
"Would you marry me, Buzz? If I asked?"    
She doesn't skip a beat. "If it would make you happy."    
"I don't think I could be any happier right now."  
  
As we sit down for a breather she checks my watch and curses. "I'll be right back, my meds are in the dressing room with our bags."    
"I'll be here."    
But then I watch those hips sway as she walks away, the fabric caressing her curves like a second skin, and catch her just before she closes the door.    
"What are you doing?" she says with a little squeal as I pull her back against my front.     
"I can't keep my hands off you for another second." My lips graze the side of her neck as I speak and she tips her head back for more, downing two capsules with a swig of water.    
"We'll have to be quick."    
"I know. Just enough to tide me over until we get home."  I peel the gown up, exposing her legs, hips, stomach, breasts, before taking it over her head and hanging it over a chair, leaving her in only a g-string, glittery hearts, and stilettos. "Holy fuck you're magnificent."    
Buzz giggles and sits herself on the dresser, opening her legs and tugging me forward by my tie even as she unfastens the knot. While she slips it from my collar and palms the front of my pants my fingers push the lace aside, tease her folds and dip inside her wetness, a moan escaping as I push further. "I want you, babe," she whispers, licking the shell of my ear and sending shivers all over my body. My pants fall to my ankles and she licks her lips as my cock springs free, stroking it with delicate fingers and lining it up with her entrance.   
  
From the moment I ease into her she softens like warm putty in my arms, my fingers clutching her ass cheeks to keep her steady while I thrust home. It's hard and fast, her sweet, soft moans muffed in my collar while her hands claw at my shoulders. Without warning she stiffens and falls silent and I speed up until her walls collapse around me and her breath is released in a long, shuddering cry, my cum erupting into her tight heat. We remain entangled just long enough to catch our breath, dopey smiles plastered on our faces.   
  
By the time we're cleaned up and back to the party Alex has been looking for us and the end of the festivities has come. Buzz hugs her tight and promises to behave while they're away.    
"You take care of our girl, okay?" Alex says to me as I wrap her in my arms and kiss her cheek.    
"Of course. Have a great time and don't worry about us."    
"You know, I don't think I will," she says giddily.     
I head out to retrieve our bags while Buzz stays with Alex, taking a few minutes to be sure I have everything that needs to go home with us.   
  
On the way back to the function room I hear Marcos' unmistakeable voice around the corner, and Buzz.    
"Dax and I are going to arrange something tomorrow, if you and mom would like to join us."    
"I don't think that's a good idea, we need to get back."    
"Okay, well if —"    
"Your mother... she was never the same after you. Even when you were born, you were a troublesome birth and left her scarred. She always wanted three children but you put an end to that. You're no good for her, Jubilee. Every stunt you pulled just broke her heart a little more."    
Even from here I hear the crack of a swallowed sob as she tries to breathe. "I'm sorry, I —"    
"You're worth how many millions now, Jubilee? Do you know the cost of keeping you in that hospital all that time? And you throw it in our faces by moving across the country and doing the same to Alex. All that time, not one word. Why couldn't you be more like your brother instead of only thinking of yourself?"    
"I didn't know... I was sick..."    
"Your mother is going to invite you and your latest  _fling_  to stay. If you care about her at all, you won't. She's better off without you. We all are."    
My hands are balled into fists and my jaw is clenched so tight my teeth crunch together. At first I wasn't keen on sticking my nose into someone else's business, but I'll be damned if anyone's going to talk to my Buzz like that. Her head whips around when she sees me and she holds up a hand.     
"Sebastian, don't."    
I glance at her long enough to see the tears in her eyes, her cheeks rosy pink like she's been slapped, tipping my head apologetically before I face her father.  
"Who do you think you are, talking to her like that? You don't even know her, because in all these years you didn't have the stones to pick up a god damn phone. And you know what? That's your loss. You're all worse off for not knowing this incredible, intelligent, strong woman. She has an illness, one she fights every fucking minute just to keep on living, and she does it day after day while running a hugely successful company and treating those around her with kindness and respect. Clearly she didn't get that from you."     
I feel Buzz's fingers thread between mine and tug gently.     
"Take your small mind back to your small town where you belong." I make a show of wiping Buzz's tears with my unsteady thumbs and tenderly kissing her lips. "Let's get out of here, angel."  
  
Buzz is quiet the rest of the evening, barely stringing two words together. I'm not pushing her, I don't know if she thinks I overstepped but she obviously doesn't want to talk yet. Thankfully she hasn't closed off altogether, since she changed out of her dress and back into the silk robe she's been curled up beside me on the couch playing with my hand with her head resting on my chest.     
"Do you want to talk?"    
She shakes her head. A little while later her fingers stop weaving in and out of mine and she slowly gets heavier as she dozes off. Eventually I have to carry her to bed, curling my body protectively around her back and stroking her hair.    
"Thank you," she whispers into the dark.    
"You know nothing he said is true."    
Her shoulders shrug. "He believes it."    
"None of it was your fault. Was he always like that?"    
"Kind of. Always thought I was attention seeking. I didn't realise he was still so angry."    
"He has no right to be."    
"Did you mean what you said today?"    
"Every single word. I'm so proud of you and so grateful to have you. I want to wake up by your side every day for the rest of my life."    
"I want that too."    
She drifts off before I can say any more.  
  
While she's sleeping I look down at her face, brushing a stray hair from her temple. This is it, I'm sure. More than I've ever known anything else, I know I want to spend my life with Buzz. When I told her I was okay with not getting married or having kids a tiny part of me hoped one day she might change her mind. I'd stick around regardless, but ideally she'd turn around one day and let me have my way. But just now, knowing she'd say 'yes' if I asked, I knew she was doing it for me and it didn't sit right. If we're going to do this then I have to truly let it all go and make that what I want, otherwise some day down the track I'll resent her. And until that beautiful wedding today, when all I could see was Buzz and our perfect, unmarried, childless future, I don't know that I was ready for that. I am now, and I have no idea how to make her understand that. It's funny but I feel like I also have to let go of the idea of needing some sort of symbol for the rest of the world that I am committed to her.  
  
The next day is one of those magical New York occasions where the recipe of warmth and breeze is absolutely perfect, just enough to keep the temperature mild and the sun spackling through the trees in the park. I had my guard up when Dax arrived with Lauren and their children in tow, figuring the way his father spoke about him yesterday he might not have fallen far from the tree, but I couldn't have been further from the mark. It's only an hour or so before any awkwardness has melted away and they're pushing the two young boys on the swings, laughing like siblings that haven't been apart for half of their lives.     
"Buzz isn't at all like I imagined," Lauren says, rattling a bright pink octopus above their infant daughter. "Not that Dax says she was a monster or anything, I just didn't expect her to be so... happy."    
"She has her moments," I tell her with a chuckle. "She's doing really well, though. It won't ever go away but right now it's well managed I guess."    
"You guys really seem to complement each other, you must have a very calming influence on her."    
I can't catch a laugh before it escapes.  _Not always_. "Yeah, I guess we kind of do. How long have you and Dax been together?"    
"We met in college and started dating a few months later. He took a lot of years to get over what happened with Buzz, even longer to stop being angry with Janet."    
"Not Marcos?"    
She looks down at her finger as her daughter tries to pull it into her mouth, and I know she's seen it, too. The side of Marcos that we saw yesterday. "Dax always blamed Janet, she seemed to be the one taking action."    
"You don't agree?"    
Lauren sighs and looks around like she's hoping for a diversion. "I wasn't there, so... I don't know. We're all very close now."    
"It's great that you are. I don't think Buzz will be able to repair that relationship, but I think she missed Dax. She felt like he was collateral damage, she got all the attention and he had to witness her breakdowns. It must have been really tough on him."    
"It was. I don't think he ever blamed her, he told me wished he could have helped. When he went away to college he visited her a couple of times, gave her money because it was all he could think to do."    
"He's the reason she got out of the hospital and got to New York. To Alex." Sophie gurgles and turns her head to look at me, a gummy smile curling her mouth around an octopus leg. "She's gorgeous, how old is she?"    
"Five months. Have you and Buzz talked about children?"    
"Um... yeah. We're not... neither of us want to. That's not to say I can't appreciate other people's or that I don't love them, I just don't want my own."    
She nods. "I know a few couples who've made that choice. A couple more who ended up with one, anyway."    
I don't know if I was waiting for her to say 'Oh, you'll change your mind', or if I was waiting for my own little seed of doubt, but neither of them eventuate and as I exhale the weight of the last few weeks disappears.   
  
In the early evening she's laying on top of of me while I read and when I look down she's fallen asleep, exhausted by the mental toll of the last few days. We haven't really talked about today yet, but I've learned now that she'll talk to me when she's ready and feels up to it. From what I could see it was a happy reunion and the embrace they shared when we parted ways was emotional on both sides. A little while later her eyes flutter open and she shifts her weight, stretching her arms above her head so they rest on my shoulders.    
"Steady," I groan, "your hip bone is about to crush my nuts."    
Buzz shifts back to her original place and laughs. "Sorry. Am I too heavy?"    
I am not stupid enough to tell a woman she's squashing me. "No, you're fine. I like your weight on me and you're warmer than a blanket."  
  
"I'm really glad we did that," she says after a long silence. "He thinks they might have some work for us, which would be a huge win. I said maybe we could go visit them for a few days, or spend some more time if they come back here."    
"Was it strange seeing him after so long?"    
"You know how sometimes you meet someone and it's like you knew them in a past life, they feel familar even though you know they can't be? It was like that. We didn't talk about the past at all, just our adult lives. Partners, kids, work. I feel like we ditched you with Lauren a bit, though."    
"I don't mind, we found plenty to talk about. They seem a lovely family, their kids are cute, too."    
"Mm." She nods and falls silent again, resting her cheek flat on my chest. When she speaks again her voice is so small I have to strain to hear it. "They've never heard of me. The boys didn't know they had an aunt."    
"That must hurt, doll." I wrap both of my arms across her and draw circles with my thumb. "You can make up for that now, though. Nothing that can't be mended."    
"I know. And I will."    
"Lauren asked if we were gonna have kids and get married."    
Buzz cranes her neck to meet my eyes. "What did you tell her?"    
"The truth. Neither of us want that, we're happy as we are. C'mere." I reach down beneath her shoulders and pull her up so she rests her palms on my shoulders and our faces are level. "I am, Buzz. I'm happy with us. Just like this. I don't want marriage and kids, I want us. And I don't give a shit how it looks from the outside. From where I'm sitting, it's perfect."    
She trails a fingertip down my cheek and around my mouth with a grin. "I thought Alex's wedding was gonna make you propose."    
"Nah. All I could see yesterday was you. Not in a wedding dress, or as the bride. Just exactly as you were yesterday. My partner. My Buzz. And then I watched Sophie today and thought how beautiful she was, and I thought how wonderful it could be if you repaired the relationship with Dax and had nephews and a niece, and I guess they'd be mine too. That excited me, made my heart swell more than the idea of being a father."    
Then she kisses me, and somehow we end up naked and making loud, obnoxious love on the couch instead of eating dinner. Twice. Because we can. 


	23. Wholehearted

**Buzz - 3 years later**

Six months after the wedding, when Alex told me she was already three months pregnant, I didn't skip a beat before ribbing them about getting it done so quickly. Little did I know what I know now — that it had taken so many unsuccessful pregnancies to finally have this healthy one. I wasn't surprised by her immediate connection to baby Emma, her patience through the sleepless nights, or when I'd find her asleep in a rocking chair with little arms and legs sprawled over her chest. I was caught completely off guard when she asked me to be her guardian, though.     
"Isn't that like a god-parent? I'm supposed to give her spiritual guidance? Surely you'd want someone better qualified, someone who actually has their own shit together."    
"Buzz, you're always going to be the closest woman in her life after me. Just be there for all those things she won't talk to me about. And if anything should happen —"    
"Don't," I interrupted. "It won't, and you don't need to ask."    
The night before Emma's naming ceremony we had dinner with Alex, Hugh, Adam — Hugh's brother, and the other assigned guardian — and his partner Nick. Adam and Nick have been together as long as I've known them and over the years we've met a few times for special occasions or when they'd come down from Portsmouth to visit.     
"We are definitely not traditional godparents," Adam said, throwing his arm around my shoulders. "More like odd-parents!"  
And it stuck.     
When the celebrant was talking about spiritual influences and important people in Emma's life we were officially named the 'odd parents', and I have a certificate on the wall to prove it.   
  
As soon as she told me they were expecting I insisted they take my half of the townhouses and extend into it, an idea that I'd always had in the back of my mind. Sebastian and I bought and moved into a three bedroom Brownstone, which gave me an office with a view to work from on late nights when I couldn't sleep rather than keep him awake. It was around that time that his career kind of exploded, suddenly he was the star of a string of highly successful films, his name known all around the globe as more than Captain America's sidekick. We fell into an easy state of committed bliss where I could be truly happy for him even when he was away most of the year, and when the flights back and forth became too much my new long term deal with Kiewit meant I could afford to surprise him and make it a little easier. It was my first big financial splurge in years and I still ran it by Alex and Sabine even though I no longer needed their authority, then I turned up in Los Angeles when Sebastian was packing and took him home on a charter jet. It's since come in handy for all sorts of business occasions as well as quick weekends together, enough that we're considering investing in a private one for Lightyear.   
  
We made an agreement that weekend and we've kept it ever since — no more than a month passes without us spending at least a few hours alone. Sometimes I go to him, or he comes home, and often we meet in the middle. If he has an extended stay in Los Angeles we make it work by spending a couple of days in Omaha, and I call it a business trip by visiting Dax before I return home. I feel incredibly fortunate to have had a taste of so much of the world, to be able to take a long weekend and meet the love of my life on Mallorca, Tangier, Portugal, and tiny archipelagos that are barely a blip on the map.   
  
I never expected to be so content, I associated contentedness with being stagnant and unchallenged, a sense of mind-numbing boredom. We do have challenges, we argue and disagree without going to bed angry, and both of us have more than enough to exercise our active minds at work. There are days I feel like the distance between us is more like solar systems than continents and I regularly frustrate Sebastian when I'm not entirely present in a conversation because my brain is working on another problem. But it works, and dare I say it... I'm happy. We're happy. I'll never be completely stable but between Erica and Dr West I have a good combination of meds and therapy, the lows are a little shallower and the highs are more Rushmore than Everest. Once Alex started to suffer from 'baby brain' we arranged for all of my meds to reside with me — still in a locked cabinet, but now Sebastian has the key and it isn't hidden — and I've managed them myself without incident ever since. It was frightening the first few months, knowing that it was all under my control for the first time in my adult life, but it was time to stand on my own feet.  
  
The company is another story. When Lightyear Solutions officially signed an agreement to produce all future software solutions for Kiewit we were quickly inundated with more work than our small operation could handle. We moved premises to allow for more staff and bigger production teams, and I had to find a team of coders I trusted to do the job as well as I could. I still write a lot of stuff myself, but it's frequently to solve a particular issue or fill a gap than writing the entire thing from scratch, and I had to give up some of that control because even if I work twenty hours a day and ignore everything else it's impossible to keep up, and as I found out my mental health declines pretty quickly if I don't maintain the balance. Sabine is still my PA and I couldn't possibly get things done without her, she's my walking organiser and prioritises every task for me. I can't spend company funds without approvals, either, and I deliberately kept it that way. Sending myself into bankruptcy is one thing, but I can't afford that risk with my employees lives. Once we took on more and more staff to cover larger projects I made absolutely sure it was locked down so that no matter how badly I might fuck up financially the company can't be affected. I don't even pretend to understand how it works, but the lawyers assure me it does.   
  
Promotion for Sebastian's new film began last week in Los Angeles and tonight, after two days solid of interviews, we're attending the premiere in New York. I'm dying to see my brilliant man play a less wholesome leading role, though a part of me wishes I could do it without the gown taped between my boobs and heels that should come with a safety warning. Tomorrow he's off to London and then a few select locations in Europe before Korea, Japan, and Singapore — I'm hoping to join him for that leg but the logistics are still being ironed out.     
"Doll, we're gonna be late." He pokes his head around the bedroom door, his black on black suit setting off the groomed stubble on his jaw just perfectly. His voice lowers as he moves toward me, openly admiring the deep strip of exposed skin between my breasts. "Holy shit. We're definitely gonna be late."    
"Nuh-uh," I hold him back with one raised hand, "I am all held together with double sided tape, you don't get to touch these until the party's over."    
He laughs and steps closer, his rough cheek grazing mine as he kisses it. "You're absolutely stunning, Buzz."    
"So are you, I love you in all black."    
"Why do you think I insisted on this one for tonight?" he says with a little twirl and flourish that makes me giggle.     
  
When we first took our relationship out in the open there were so many things to be anxious about that I missed how much fun these events could be. We attended the Toronto film festival together and I remember having the stylist find me an outfit that was fitting to be alongside Sebastian in a suit but covered all of my tattoos, and then I removed all of my piercings. The week before I even had my hair dyed from pink and purple back to a cool brown with subtle blonde highlights, I guess it was an effort to blend in. I'll never forget the sincerity in Sebastian's eyes when, after a makeup artist had painstakingly covered every tiny hole and made my face feel like it would crack if I smiled too wide, he insisted I put my jewellery back in.    
"I didn't think you were that keen on piercings?" I asked.    
"I'm not fussed either way on the actual piercings, but without them you're not my Buzz. You're trying to be someone else, an image in your mind that you believe is better suited to me. No one is better for me than you. Exactly as you are."  
  
Still, it took some time to be comfortable. We were always asked the same questions, about marriage and babies. He's played roles where he had a child, so naturally that would lead in to 'and when are you starting a family with Buzz?' Sebastian always kept his personal life close to his chest so he wasn't prepared for the sudden inquisition once we'd appeared on a red carpet together. We both kind of hoped it might be a case of posing for photos and moving on but that was a ridiculously naive expectation — suddenly everyone had an opinion on my appearance and everyone wanted to dig into my life. After a while it slowed down and I learned not to read anything in the media, because when you're already so depressed you can't leave the house it's not a good time to read comments like 'trashy', 'more tattoos and bling than brains', or 'Sebastian deserves so much better'.   
  
I shake off the memory with a shudder. The state I was in when talking to Sebastian that evening prompted an Instagram post that was at once painfully raw and beautifully restrained, where he didn't so much defend my honour or gush about his feelings as he demanded respect and compassion for us both. I don't know if it made a difference because I haven't read anything about us since, but I heard it did make a couple of magazine covers.   
  
Tonight everything aside from my dress is subtle — at least compared to my usual selections — although tattoos are peeking out across my shoulders and the rose gold ball in my tongue is the same, the others are tiny, plain, gold domes. The square diamond earrings were Sebastian's gift to me this Christmas and deserve all of the attention, they sparkle and reflect rainbows under every light. The car pulls up at the theatre and I can already hear the excited babble of people outside, the cameras like distant lightning as other celebrities arrive. From the moment the driver opens the door it's on, even as I'm trying to make a graceful and well-practiced exit without showing the strip of lace covering my nether regions there's a strobe of flashes and the earth-shattering scream of fans who've waited so long they're bordering on enough delirium to applaud the nearest pot plant. Oh god, those screams. I'm sure deafness should be an occupational hazard for actors who do this kind of thing. Sebastian lights up with that megawatt smile and as soon as I'm outside the vehicle in one piece I wave him toward the throng of cardboard-backed posters, photographs, and Pop Vinyls bound for someone's wall or shelf. He signs like a man possessed, takes as many selfies as required, and is careful not to leave anyone out if he can help it. The entire time he has this look that somehow combines concentration — complete with tongue poking out — and pure joy, and even though I'm away from the crowd making small talk with a couple of the crew from the film, I can't take my eyes off of him. Despite the distance between us it's contagious.  
  
For the most part I enjoy these events now. I love seeing Sebastian's films for the first time with this kind of audience and hearing their reactions, and I adore seeing him on the big screen and being reminded that he's mine. There are times when the interviews and kissing influential ass get mighty boring but generally as long as Sebastian is there I can have a good time anywhere, and if the free-flowing booze leaves us both a little tipsy then that's just a nice bonus. Throughout the screening his hand is wrapped around mine or stroking his fingertips back and forth over my palm, and I often feel his gaze reading my expression during the most intense scenes. I lean over and so my lips are beside his ear.    
"You're incredible," I whisper. "I'm so proud of you."    
A smile breaks across his face and he returns his attention to the screen.   
  
Later in the foyer, people mill around with a persistent hum like bees, greeting each other as they pass with a nod, a kiss on each cheek, a slap on the back. Some are familiar, either because we've been introduced or I recognise them from films, but most blend in to a sea of made-up faces and suits. Every now and again Sebastian will catch my eye, looking up from whatever congratulatory conversation he's involved in to give me a wink or an apologetic smile. He waves me over and I swipe a glass of champagne from a passing waiter along the way.    
"Hey, I wanted to introduce you to Robert," he says with a warm hand on the small of my back.     
As I turn my attention to the couple in front of him I lose the ability to speak — he's just casually introducing me to Robert Downey Jr and now has the hide to laugh my gaping jaw.     
"Robert, this is Buzz."    
He takes my shaking hand in a firm grip. "It's okay, honey. I used to be totally awestruck by Sebastian, too."    
I take a sip of champagne and clear my throat. "It's an absolute pleasure to meet you."    
"You too, god knows I've been hearing about you long enough. Apparently you make this guy deliriously happy."    
"Apparently." I squeeze Sebastian's hand and he smiles down at me.     
"She sure does."  
  
"Dude, you have to warn a girl if RDJ is gonna be in the room!" I hiss as we walk away. "I wasn't prepared!"    
He clutches dramatically at his chest. "I think... I think I'm jealous."    
"Nah, you don't need to be."    
"You're right, I have something he doesn't." With that he very slowly drags his tongue around both lips, his eyes never leaving mine. "Ready to get out of here?"    
"Depends who's askin'."    
"The man who wants to use this tongue all over your body."    
I drain my glass and drag him toward the door so quickly he has to leave me in the car to go back for his coat.  
  
Sebastian joins me in the shower while I wash off the thick makeup and scrub away the sticky residue from the tape.    
"There's my girl," he says, lathering coconut-scented bubbles over my back and shoulders, "I know you like getting all dressed up and feeling beautiful, but I much prefer you just like this."    
I roll my eyes. "What, naked?"    
"No, all natural. Just you, without the makeup."    
He rinses me off and shuts off the water, tucking a towel around his own waist but withholding mine. Instead of handing it to me he gently takes my hand while I step out and then pats my back and shoulders dry like a fragile ornament. When he moves around to my front I'm expecting an ulterior motive to be revealed, but he continues the action down my chest, even ignoring my erect and straining nipples except to absorb the water from them with great care and move on. Kneeling in front of me, he dabs carefully at my bottom and down the backs of my legs, then back up the front and over my mound, finishing with fluttering kisses on my belly. My fingers comb through the wet curls atop his head as he smiles up at me.     
"I love you, my beautiful goddess."    
"I love you, too. Take me to bed?"    
There's a twinkle in his eye as he stands and lets his towel fall to the floor, sweeping me up bridal style and carrying me to the bed. Just when I think he's going to drop me in the centre he lowers me like precious china and lies between my legs, kissing me deep and slow as his erection grows between us. I whimper and drag my fingers down his spine, pulling him closer against me and expecting him to push inside at any moment.   
  
Instead he pulls back and takes my hand, kissing each fingertip and then sucking my thumb between his lips. Raising both arms above my head, his lips and tongue graze over the inside of my wrist and elbow, kissing down to my shoulder and neck. He nips playfully at my collarbones and his warm breath leaves my skin prickling with goosebumps, moving down the centre of my body and covering my stomach in a spiral of kisses and licks that ends with his tongue darting into my belly button. I melt under his touch, my body humming with the sensation of his mouth on all the most sensitive and vulnerable places, those spots I never realised could put me in such a state. When he shifts down and I think he's going to use that tongue on my throbbing centre, he instead pays attention to my inner thighs, and raises my leg to get at the sensitive spot right where it meets my ass. My breath is so heavy I sound as though I'm close to orgasm, the blood rushing through my ears almost drowning out the smacks of his kisses as he continues to the back of my knee. And I moan, a shuddering raw cry as he makes a circle on that glorious indent. How, when I've inhabited this body for three decades and counting, did I not know it could feel so good?     
"Oh, god," I whisper, so quietly he likely doesn't even hear it.     
Sebastian's fingers drag down as he pushes my knee to bend, and then his breath is on the inside of my ankle while his thumb rubs a firm circle in the arch of my foot. All at once it's the most heavenly sensation I never want to end, with his smooth lips and rough growth sending shocks all the way through my body, and a distraction from where I so desperately need his touch before I combust.   
  
Without realising it my own hands have begun to wander, lightly teasing my nipples and tickling my own ribs, and then as I hear a heavy breath shudder out of Sebastian my fingertips find my swollen folds and separate them ever so slightly.    
"Fuck," he whispers, "touch yourself, doll."    
As I swirl my fingers around my bud it's swollen and sensitive, every rub is like an electric shock through my core. Sebastian kisses and nips ever so slowly back up the other leg, taking his time over my ankle and calf, fluttering kisses around my knee, and then up the back and inside of my thigh to my hip bone. He stills there for a few raspy breaths, watching my fingers work over my clit and juices spill onto my folds in between licking along the line of my hip.     
"You gonna make yourself come for me, baby? Huh?"    
"Yes," I moan, grabbing at him with my other hand. "I want you."    
"You want my tongue on that swollen, juicy pussy? Want me to lick your clit until you can't take it any more?" He sucks a nipple into his mouth and grazes it with his teeth. "What do you want, huh?"    
"I want..." I trail off as his hand moves over my navel and then stops, waiting for me to continue. Covering it with my own, I guide it down until his fingers dip inside. "I want your fingers here... and your tongue on my clit."    
"Here?" He slides two fingers deep into me, making me buck and cry out.    
"Yes... yes."    
"You gonna ask real nice for my tongue?"    
I open my eyes and stare up at him, my fingers still working at my bud as his pump slowly in and out. "Please, baby. I need your tongue... need to come... nothing feels as good as you. Please?"    
He covers my mouth with his own for a short, sloppy kiss, and then shifts down between my legs. The intensity when he removes my hand and dives in to claim my pussy immediately makes my back arch as my fingers tug at his hair.     
"Yes, baby. Right there. Fuck!" I grind against his face, his groans vibrating through me, until my legs shake and an orgasm washes over my whole body.   
  
Sebastian doesn't stop, instead holding my pelvis down with both hands and driving into me with his tongue until a second climax leaves me quivering and panting. Again he doesn't give me time to recover, but crawls up my body and slides his length inside with a breathy moan. His thrusts are slow and controlled, pulling all the way back to the tip before he pushes in again, but his gritted teeth betray the heated desire he holds back. My nails drag over his sides and back while my teeth leave marks in his neck, my walls still contracting around his cock. There's nothing like this feeling, with every vein passing my taut skin with delicious friction, the bulbous head of his erection parting my soft, slick walls with every entry, and the way his weight presses me against the sheet as his smooth skin moves back and forth against mine. As his thrusts begin to stutter and his moans sharpen I reach up and take his mouth, breaching his lips with my tongue while he pushes deep inside and I feel the pulse of his balls against me.  
  
I lay in his arms in silence, the occasional satisfied groan still issuing at random from Sebastian's throat. It doesn't matter how many times he leaves, or for how long, I hate it just as much. Sure, it's easier now than the first few times, but it still sucks and I often don't sleep well the night before.     
"I'm going to meet you in Seoul," I tell him, kissing his shoulder, "and I'll stay with you as long as I can. Hopefully until the end, but if I need to be at work before then I'll come home."    
"That's awesome, I really appreciate it."    
"Let's be honest, I'm doing it as much for selfish reasons as for you."    
He sighs. "Have you seen the weather in London at the moment? It's shit."    
"When is it not? I've never had nice weather there."    
"Mm," he grunts. "You know I'm gonna miss you like crazy."    
"Yeah. How could you not?" I laugh. "I'll miss you too. Emma is having a sleep over next weekend, I'll be flying solo for the first time."    
"You won't have any problem, she loves you. You've done it plenty of times during the day without me and I'm useless with babies anyway."    
The first time we had Emma while Hugh took Alex on a date it was a serious case of the blind leading the blind — neither of us had a clue. But we learned, we coped, and the worst we did was get her diaper backwards so I think we did ok. It's only gotten easier as she gets older, though having a toddler in our apartment is the stuff of nightmares. Much easier for me to stay at Alex and Hugh's house.   
  
When he wakes me the next morning with a coffee I imagine we both look as zombie-esque as each other. If the breakfast show audience looked at the two of us together I have no doubt it would be obvious that we both took a turn at waking the other during the night — once for long, slow, spooning sex after which we were both asleep before his spent cock had even slipped out of me; and once he woke to me straddling his hips and kissing his neck, his erection already at half mast before he was conscious — and it's worth every bit of the tiredness I feel now. My body has a dull ache all over, the kind that is a constant reminder of our night time activities, and under the bright makeup lights I notice a subtle love bite on the side of his neck. Oopsie. I cover a giggle with my hand.  
  
With a bit of time to spare we take one last stroll back to the apartment before he leaves for the airport, hand in hand and blending in to the crowd. Mostly. We get the occasional double-take but no one stops us today, as though we're surrounded by a barrier that tells people not to take even a second of our alone time. Not today. Some times on departure day I'm able to hold it together, but others — like today — I'm a raw, open wound of exposed emotions. As soon as we're back behind closed doors I know we only have minutes remaining and I start to sob as soon as he pulls me close to his chest, and even though I feel stupid asking for the reassurance I really need it today.    
"You'll be safe, right? The plane won't crash and you'll be careful in London."    
"Everything will be fine, doll. I promise."    
"You can't promise that, you don't know for sure."    
"I know for sure that I love you."    
"I love you, too. Just be safe."    
"I will. You too. And if Downey comes knockin'..."    
"I'll send him back to his wife... just as soon as I'm done with him."    
He rolls his eyes. "That's my girl."    
"Call me whenever you want, okay?"    
"You know I will."  
  
And then he's gone. I allow myself an hour sit with my misery before I pick myself up with a strong coffee and open my laptop, where there's a task list long enough that it keeps me occupied well into the night. So well occupied that the backlight of my phone when it heralds an incoming message is blindingly bright, and only then do I realise I'm sitting in the dark.    
[I say old chap, I have arrived in lubbly London and it's absolutely chucking it down.     
I miss you already baby doll.     
Now go to sleep.]    
I giggle at the phone. [You're such a dork. I love you and I'm going to bed right now I promise. Miss you too.]    
  
Sleeping alone was my normal for such a long time that the old me would vomit a little in her mouth if she knew I toss and turn when Sebastian is away. After a few days I get used to it again but the first night or two are always restless, which is why I deliberately stayed up late and tired my brain with so much work while I waited for Sebastian's text that he'd arrived safe. It must have worked because the next thing I'm aware of is my phone ringing from the nightstand.    
"We're on the road!" Alex says on the other end, way too chirpy for this time of the morning. "We'll be home this afternoon, come over for dinner?"    
"I'll be there. Now I'm going back to sleep."    
She laughs. "Okay, we'll see you tonight."    
I can't get back to sleep. Although I've spoken to Alex every day I've missed visiting them and Emma while they've been away in Portsmouth for Adam and Nick's wedding. A few weeks ago she told me they were trying for a second baby and I start to wonder if she might have stayed sober at the wedding because she's pregnant and they're going to tell me tonight. This is a particular topic I don't pry too much about because Hugh is still sensitive about her telling me every little detail of their lives — probably because she told me he cried the first time they had sex, or that his foreskin is abnormally long, or that he stabbed her with a rough fingernail once and she couldn't have sex for weeks. I'm excited for them and I'm restless within a few minutes in bed, so I head in to the office while it's early and quiet.  
  
Hours later, Sabine fusses in the open doorway until I address her. "What's wrong?"    
"You haven't seen my email yet, then?"    
She knows I have allocated times for dealing with email and if it's urgent she has to alert me. Ordinarily she'd just poke her head in and tell me to read it, but as soon as I open it on my screen I see why she hesitated.     
"Fuck... they're fucking useless!" I tip my head back and rake my hands through my hair. "God damn it I'm trying to step back a little but I still have to do everything myself!"    
"Sorry, boss. Can I help?"    
I sigh and then draw a long, slow breath. "I shouldn't yell at you, I'm sorry. I'll call them and sort it out. Would you get me a coffee?"    
"Absolutely."  
  
Less than a minute later she's back. "Buzz?"    
"Yeah?" I don't look up from the screen. "Do you need money? My purse is here somewhere." She keeps an envelope of cash for things like lunches, coffee, all sorts of weird things I might send her out for and lets me know when I need to top it up.     
"No, it's not that. You're coming with me, you've been at your desk for five hours without a break."    
Count and breathe. Breathe and count. This client has had issues for two days already but they can wait another few minutes so I can keep my sanity. 1. 2. 3. 4...    
"Let's go."    
  
"Is everything okay? You're a bit on edge today. Just missing Sebastian?" Sabine asks as we step out into an icy breeze.    
"I guess so. It's really bothering me that after two days no one has fixed their problem, this is a huge client and they're just wanking about. I told Sebastian I'd spend a couple of weeks with him but now I don't know."    
"They have kind of dropped the ball on this, is it because it's new and they're not familiar with how it works?"    
"Maybe. I'll get it sorted and then go talk to them. Can you get Jake in my office at three?"    
"Done. Anything else I can do to help?"    
I pull my phone from my back pocket, my heart sinking when there's no reply from Sebastian. I sent him a couple of texts earlier and it's not like him to not respond, even when he's busy.     
"What time is it in London?"    
"Er... late afternoon."     
"Hmm."  
  
It only takes me a few minutes to see the problem and then an hour to correct and test the software before I send them a patch. Fortunately it's a custom build for one client and they're just happy to have it resolved. Berating a team leader over sloppy work isn't my idea of fun, and I'm already toying with the rings on my fingers as my hands begin to sweat.    
"Is there perhaps a problem between my coding and your understanding of it, or did you actually just stuff a customer around for two days unnecessarily?"    
Jake, the team leader I personally headhunted, clears his throat. "I don't want to sound disrespectful, but sometimes it's a little jumbled. There are often tags missing that don't matter until there's an error."    
"You're allowed to tell me the truth, Jake. I won't have this happen again so if there's a problem we need to fix it. Do we need someone to look over my code before it goes to development?"    
"I'm not questioning your work —"    
"My brain works a little differently," I say with a smile, "and rarely in a straight line. If we need to do that to avoid future problems then so be it."      
Sabine darts past my office when the door bell sounds through the phone system. I'm so used to it being Sebastian visiting that I look up toward the door, and then check my phone again.    
Still nothing.     
The restless, uneasy feeling I've had in my guts all day is becoming increasingly uncomfortable. I'd never consider myself in any way telepathic but I can just feel that something isn't right.    
  
While we're analysing the earlier issue and the patch Sabine returns and even before I process her ashen colour and shaking hands I see on her face that something is awfully, horribly wrong. She beckons with a wave of her trembling hand and two officers in NYPD blue appear in the doorway.     
"What's happening?" I ask.    
"You're Jubilee Edison?" the female of the two asks.     
I nod.    
"I'm afraid there's been an accident, if you'll accompany us to the car we'll explain on the way."

 


	24. Xylograph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning - death of secondary characters

** Sebastian **

It's almost midnight before I realise I haven't spoken to Buzz today, and my phone is dead flat. Finally on the way back to the hotel, sitting in the back of the car is the first chance I've had to take the weight off of my feet and properly come out of character. Thank god we have tomorrow morning off. I stumble in to my room, dump my bag beside the bed and stand motionless under teeming hot water until I must surely be clean. I'm mid-collapse in to bed when I remember my phone, reaching over with a groan to plug it into the charger and wait for it to get enough juice to turn on.   
  
The hotel phone beside the bed wakes me with a sound akin to a fire alarm and it takes many rings for me to locate the source of the high-pitched trill and answer with a groggy grunt that I hope passes as a greeting.     
"Mister Stan, I'm so sorry to disturb you but you have an urgent phone call from a Dax Edison. I tried to have him call back but he says it's an emergency."    
I scrub at my eyes and sit up in the dark. "That's fine, put him through."    
"Sebastian?" Dax says on the other end.     
"Yeah, man. What's up?"    
"Alex and Hugh got into a wreck on their way home from Portsmouth."    
"Shit." I stand up and pull on my shorts, which makes no sense other than I feel like this shouldn't be spoken about in the nude. "Are they okay? Is Emma okay?"    
"Emma... Emma has some cuts and bruises but she'll be okay." He pauses and my heart leaps into my throat. "Fuck, I don't know how... Hugh was pronounced dead at the scene, and Alex..." A sob tears from his throat. "Alex is on life support to preserve her organs. She's gone, they confirmed brain death a couple of hours ago."    
Unfelt tears splash onto my thighs. This can't be real, it can't be happening. Buzz is all alone and I'm here and this has to be a nightmare.     
"Where is Buzz? Is someone with her?"    
"Adam and Nick are there, Alex's parents should be landing soon, but... She needs you."    
"Of course. I'll be there as soon as I can."  
I'm pacing back and forth in front of the windows, my range limited by the phone cord. My brain feels like a maze of dead ends where the only thoughts that go anywhere are random ones like 'why are the lights on in that building?'     
"Why didn't she call me?"    
"She tried, we all did."    
"Fuck." I never turned my phone on. When I find it on the floor where it fell from my hand it's fully charged but still not powered up, and then it goes ballistic with new messages and missed calls. "My phone was off. Uh... I need to get back... I need to talk to the director. I can't think."    
"I'll take care of the flight and text you the details, there will be a jet waiting when you're ready."  
  
It's only once we're in the air I see the sun beginning to illuminate the horizon and realise morning is coming and there's no way I can sleep. I don't know what the time is there -- or here for that matter -- or what time we'll be landing. The pilot did mention how long it would take but honestly I wasn't paying attention, my body is just going through the motions and my mind has ground to a halt. I know I had conversations and was told to just go and everything would be sorted out. I spoke with Buzz, a very brief conversation saying I was on my way home, and she replied simply with "Hurry. Please."  
  
Now there's time to think. When I first spoke with Dax there was a wrecking ball swung in my direction and somehow divine intervention reached down and grabbed the chain while I made arrangements to get back to Buzz, but it can only be held back so long. Staring out the window, just one thought is enough to release it right into my guts and make the emotion spill out.    
Emma.    
How will she ever get over losing both parents? If Hugh was killed on impact, did she know? How long was she screaming for help?   
  
Oh god, that poor little girl. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
My nose is immediately assaulted by hospital sanitiser and my sneakers squeak on the shiny laminate floor. After a few steps I notice it's not just my footsteps making that irritating noise, but every single time a shod foot makes contact, and a busy hospital in the middle of the day is suddenly more cacophony than I can handle. I know Buzz needs me but still my body turns right back the way I came and exits, my lungs taking in great gulps of nicotine-tainted air. It's still better than hospital sanitiser.    
"Sebastian, right?"    
I turn to my left and see Peter, Alex's father, sitting on a bench seat right beneath a no smoking sign with a cigarette precariously balanced between his index and middle fingers.     
"Peter, I'm so --"    
"Haven't had one of these in thirty years," he says as though he didn't hear me, gesturing so that a wispy trail of smoke is left hanging in the air. His face is drawn, his skin so pale he could be a ghost, and his eyes seem focused on some distant point beyond the hospital compound. Finally he looks at me as though I just sprouted up from the pavement. "Shouldn't you be with Jubilee? She needs you."    
I want to say something in response but he turns away.   
  
This time I shut out the noise and head up to the surgical floor, relieved to have the elevator to myself for a few seconds of quiet. As soon as I emerge I see the ward I'm looking for and a nurse points me toward the end of the corridor. In stark contrast to the blinding fluorescent lights and sharp corners everywhere else, it seems to gradually soften with each step until I reach the door at the end. The small square window is so dark I wonder if I might have the wrong room, or if I should knock, but then it opens from the inside and Buzz thrusts herself into my arms.   
  
We stay there a long time, seconds stretching into minutes. I expected her to cry, or wail, or punch my chest and tell me how life isn't fair, but there's only a morose, calm, silence. Finally she looks up at me, her arms still wrapped tight around my neck. Her usually vibrant eyes are dull and puffy and her skin is mottled red, but she manages the tiniest of smiles in the corner of her mouth.    
"Thank you. I need you."    
"Of course, doll. God, I'm so sorry."    
"Yeah," she whispers. "Me too."    
It's only then I see over Buzz's shoulder to Alex, surrounded by machines. One side of her face and head is shrouded in bandages, the other bruised almost beyond recognition, but somehow she seems peaceful. I can't reconcile that with the scientific evidence before me -- her injuries, the external devices keeping her lungs and heart pumping so that her other organs don't die -- but she could just be taking a restful nap.     
"I need to stay with her." Buzz lowers herself into a chair beside the bed and I pull over another to sit beside her, resting my hand on her back.    
"Is there anything I can do for you?"    
She shakes her head silently, her fingers shaking as she holds Alex's hand. I want to say something, or ask questions, but the atmosphere feels like paper-thin glass that might shatter if I breathe too deeply. So we sit. Buzz holds Alex's cannulated hand in both of hers, stroking and smoothing each finger, scraping the dried blood from beneath her nails. And we wait.   
  
A team of surgeons have assembled in a small meeting room and I overhear them speaking solemnly with Peter as I pass on the way to the bathroom. I wonder why Buzz wouldn't be part of the conversation, and I'm confused by Trisha's absence, but I don't feel I have any right to be asking questions. I'm not part of the family, just an outsider here to support Buzz, and yet I feel like I've lost a sibling I never had. On my return the serenity of Alex's room is gone, replaced by a tense exchange between Peter and Buzz.     
"I'm not leaving until they take her. I won't let her be alone."    
"There's a nurse right outside!" Peter hisses. "Look, Sebastian will stay with her."    
"What's wrong, doll?" I ask her softly.    
"The transplant team are here and want to talk to all of us together before they... but I don't need to. They'll cut her open, take the reusable parts, and close her back up. I'm not leaving this room until she does. I promised."    
Peter is giving me a look that all but says 'talk some sense into your woman,' but we both know she doesn't work that way.     
"What if they just bring the team here?" I whisper beside her ear. "Would that be okay? I think it might be good for you to know exactly what's going to happen."    
Buzz sighs and nods, and finally I see where I can fit into this mess.   
  
Once I've spoken to the chief surgeon I make my way up another floor to find Trisha in the children's ward, sitting beside a cot where Emma sleeps. I hesitate in the doorway. For all of Buzz's less typical behaviours and reactions, I know her and I know how to handle her needs now. She's a familiar part of me that I understand better than I do myself at times. Other people, who I haven't had so much contact with? I'm completely out of my depth. What do you say to a woman who just lost her daughter and son-in-law? Where do I even begin trying?  
  
I rest an uncertain hand on Trisha's shoulder and without looking up she lays her own on top.     
"I know," is all she says.     
"How is she?" I ask, wincing at the bruises and cuts on Emma's body. It tears at my heart to see her so battered and know that the emotional damage will be exponentially worse. I'd do anything to protect this little girl from that kind of pain.    
"A few stitches, and she'll be sore for a while, but nothing serious. Miraculous, really."    
"The team is here for Alex, they're meeting in her room. I'll stay with Emma."    
Trisha nods and stands robotically, squeezing my hand before she leaves. When Emma stirs and whimpers a while later I reach in to the bed and she wraps her fingers around my thumb like she did when she was a baby, holding a small paramedic teddy bear tight to her chest as she settles back in to sleep. When the nurse comes to check on her he explains that she's been given painkillers and will still be sleepy from sedation, but she will be able to go home tomorrow.     
"Home," I repeat softly. "Who will she go home with?"    
He sits down in the chair beside me with Emma's chart on his lap. "I guess that will have to be worked out, do you know if her parents expressed any wishes in that regard?"    
"She has godparents."    
"That's likely who will sort it out, then. She will live with them, if that's feasible."    
"Of course."    
"Poor darlin. Kids are resilient, but her whole little world will be inside out for a while. She'll sleep for hours yet, you should get some rest while you can." He gestures toward a padded armchair in the corner, but I don't dare sit in it in case she wakes up.


End file.
